Posted by: Ron DuBour | April 8, 2016

STREET TO STREETS~by Rajendra Padhi




The roads are my books
Each scene opens a new page
A squirrel crosses the road
Unhurt by the running wheels
Looks back for a minute
Swiftly vanishes somewhere.

Monkeys come in summer
Jumping on roofs of houses
In search of food and water
Forests are barren
Rivers are dried up
Find shelter nowhere
Steal berries from garden
In swift-footed ways.

Voices fluctuate to and fro
Never pausing for goals
Steps like worms in a row
Never meet with others
Frayed and strained in desires
Life gleams as a painting
In hoardings and walls
Day is broken into night
Like a little egg in frying pan.

There is an old man lying
With no one to support
A dark book with secret of death
I hear his whisper
Dazzled him with affection
Before he closed his eyes.

I move on from street to streets
Find the day in its right frame
And hold the night as if I listen
Nothing but silence
Looking for poems I stay long
The thin eyes of a dove
Sharp to look each grain on roads
Picking it out from the pebbles.

Composed and copyright by Rajendra K. Padhi

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