Winter

Its a pitch dark night,
The light from the lamp posts,
Cast a shadowy,smoky light,
On the pavements and the shady roads.

The dark streets wear a look so deserted,
Only some undefinable figures around,
One cannot ,from the other be seperated,
Clad in great coats,homeward bound.

The trees are silhouetted against the sky,
The watery moon barely illuminated.
An occasional  hooting owl fly by,
Its a night eerie and so haunted!

The doors are firmly shut,
The lights through the panes,
Are the only sign that is but--
Tells,theres life thriving in the lanes.

Out of my window,into the night I peer,
It makes me wonder,I try to figure out,
Why the winter is so silent and queer,
Replete with so much gloom all about!

It was then,the Child in the manger born,
In celebration, houses and streets they adorn.
Winter is pure,garbed in pristine white,
The snowy earth,dazzles the sight.

The winter is but a reminder,
The spring is just round the corner,
When nature outdoes herself in perfection,
An undeniable evidence of Divine  intervention.
                                                                           Chandni.

Plea

There is calm, there is quiet,
The whistling of the wind,
The rustling of the leaves,
The sounds ever so magnified.

Many a man yearns for such peace,
Longs for an abode beside the glade,
Away from the maddening din,
To repose in the lap of eternal bliss.

But why is this not for me?
This silence is deafening,
A condition undesired for.
This uneasy calm, must it be?

Is it a warning of an impending storm?
Or a mind teeming with brooding thoughts?
The silence is so unfathomable:--
Will the reason be revealed?--in what form?

The wise say-"Golden is silence"-
I,a lesser mortal,cannot comprehend,
For it overburdens my mind,
Takes it beyond the limit of tolerance.

Speak up,dont fail your clamorous words,
When silence reigns,feelings hurt,
Unspoken words bleed,in caged silence
Free them,let me soar heaven wards.
                                                           Chandni.



                                                               

A Paean to the Night

The night,is a vision of darkness

Breathtakingly beautiful in its calmness,

Through the fleeting time away it glides,

Unconcerned of its impending demise.

The colour of void it wears,

Yet in its womb it bears,
Secrets,hidden and untold,

And dreams,that by and by unfold.

The night,devoid of blinding light,

Is blessed with a soothing sight,

The blue black heavens dimly lit,
The glowing moon's starry seat.

Its pitch darkness is a gift Divine,
Hides all earthly flaws,the Night benign,
Stretches on, for miles,the serene silence,
Flows through it ,in perfect cadence

Its blackness visible to all eyes,
But not the silver streak, that in it lies,
When the day is done and over,
The night offers rest and peaceful slumber.

Then the dawn struts its rays gayly,
The night beats a retreat, quietly,
But not before it has rejuvenated,the placid,
Souls, slumberous,weary and  fatigued.

The dark mystery is as mysterious as it can be,
Its beyond comprehension,for you and me,
The darkness profound,within it,life teeming,
Their songs undecipherable but haunting.

When the world casts at us glances disdainful,
The light hurts and the grief is too painful,
The night embraces and comforts the soul,
The heart finds solace in the star at the pole.

The night is generous and bountiful,
Its music lilting and soulful,
Peace and tranquility,set in, bit by bit
One cant help but  sing a paean  to it.
                                                              Chandni.