New Moon

A silver new moon
like a shinning scythe
reaps the stars
in the azure sky.
Some wandering clouds
cover its face and make
its glowing sight foggy. 
 
The multicoloured leaves –
ornaments of the autumn
innocently come under our feet
the fall prevails everywhere.

Under the yellow golden veil
the earth is hiding its face
and the silver new moon smiles.

A longing lingers
becomes yearning
and yearning brings 
dukh grief, sheer misery-
voiceless, faceless
wandering my thoughts
nowhere, spaceless.
I yearn to hear your voice! 

Buddha speaks to me:

 “Sufferings exist.
There is cause of sufferings.
Sufferings cease.
There is a path to cessation of sufferings.”

“The love of poetry is an affair of the heart.” –James Reeves

Advertisements

Silver Scythe

 A Poem  for Blue-Moon Reading

A silver new moon
like a shinning scythe
reaps the stars
in the azure sky
only for one night.
Some wandering clouds
cover its face and make
foggy its glowing sight.. 
 
The multicoloured leaves –
ornaments of the autumn
innocently fell on the paths.
Under the yellow golden veil
the earth sleeps in peace
knowing every tree is pregnant.
The silver new moon smiles.
 
A longing lingers
becomes yearning
and yearning brings 
dukh, grief, sheer misery-
voiceless, faceless
wandering my thoughts
ceaselessly everywhere.
I yearn to hear your voice!  

This poem can be also read under “New Moon