At five AM, another day begins
And time passes and the poem
Passes in the early hour by sea.
While Borges passes in his time
With blinding poetry by a light,
A recently bearded guru passes.
Time passes leaving old spaces,
Says my goodbye to a loved one
Passing pain in the belly of time.
I am a series of emptied spaces.
I pass eating peanuts at twilight
On beach sand ,as the sea passes.
Coconuts pass into a space of sea
Their heads nod to passing wind.
Their moon passes to the sea sky.
The sea waves pass in my spaces
Breaking peanut shells at twilight.
Coconuts pass in moonless nights.
Sea rose early over the coconuts.
Coconuts had slept late last night.
It might have been the other way.
Coconuts had no moon to a wind.
Sea was tight-lipped about moon
With no effect on women off sea.
Cycles of all things go on in world
Like all other days, like tomorrow
But a tomorrow may be otherwise.
A new grove stands on the beach.
The coconuts rub their sleepy eyes,
In disbelief in their crewcut fronds.
A little far ,they smell white salt sea.
They love their new home on beach.
Cool waters slosh in coconut skulls.
Back at home they had feet in earth
With endless blue emptiness above.
Here ,sea goes up and down in blue.
As the waves break they hurl winds
From far seas where they meet sky.
The fronds now dance to a sea wind .
(An entire coconut grove has sprung up overnight on our beach ,having been translocated from another place as part of beach beautification )
I wake to coconuts by beach,
Composed of their old selves,
Trees to host morning crows.
Crows will dream in coconuts
And sing their morning songs
To a dead fish washed ashore.
I wake, composed of a dream
Flimsy like air in crow’s wings
On trees bent by the sea wind.
At night we had a big picture
Dark implicit crows sleeping
In foliage in a night’s silence.
Now , tree explodes in crows.
Their caws play to a new sun
As if the new sun is a gunshot
Heard across a now gilded sea
From a ship standing inside it
In another day’s wakefulness
We see the almond tree’s sky.
There is commotion of crows
As if gunshot is heard across
And crows scatter their cries.
A sea rolls from gold to silver,
And world wakes to new day.
After waking I try to remember
The plot of my dream to find it
Fatuous ,with no denouement.
I was not the one who made it.
I have only supplied the props.
Someone else seems dreamer.
The way the plot went haywire,
It played out as amateur as life.
A policeman arrives in raincoat.
The wet crow alights on the sill.
The rain falls in window’s glass
As the sea moves up and down.
The crow caws after a new sun
As clouds shut the world down.
We witness our yet another day
As a sea is bursting with waves.
We are a witness to world alive
Being alive for yet another day .
Waking brings dark mind back,
From yesterday’s concentration
When it tried to clear the mists
And then it was cloud and haze
Rains fell on the sea in needles.
Now they fall as words at 5 AM.
The words belong to the clouds.
They vanish in sea like needles.
The rain will stream on the face
To say it is alive after its waking.
Pinch yourself hard ,on elbows
The mark of new dawn on you.
New sea is alive on waves rising
And fish at usual frisking about.
And now you wake up and smile
At the dark that has just diluted
After a sleep that has vanished
From your eyes to say goodbye
To the night’s creepy darkness
And smile sweetly at a new sun.
Let sea blow its vaunted glory
With the beach agog with men
Who are still alive after waking
Along with a new sun and you.
The baby boy cries near a wall
And the falling edge of the bed
Fan whirls a shadow in his eyes.
Mom passes as whiff of breeze.
Through empty window’s glass
Is a strip of sky hanging in blue.
The fan stops on a flood of rain.
There is rain inside baby’s eyes
The eyes are full of baby’s sleep.
They cry their rainfall on sleep.
The blue sky is hanging outside.
A rain falls from its empty blue.
World is rain and sky and blue.
World drops a rainfall of tears.