What is , but love ?

What is , but love ?

What clothes us, but love?
What unspools into nakedness , but love ?
What builds us , but love ?
What crumbles our self made illusions , but love?
What gives us voice, but love ?
What makes us choose silence, but love ?
What was, but love ?
What will be, but love ?
What is , but love !
And we will be bubbles that rise, burst
In a cauldron of simmering love .


—shubha

Why do we need poetry?

Why do we need poetry?


To let Love call onto itself

To let it sing it's own songs

To be it's listener

To be it's witness

To be it's instrument

To hear it speak

In the silences between.


--shubha

Peanut tales

Peanut tales


Peanut shells litter the table

From my fogged memory,cable

A love so old , so rooted , stable

Of walks with grandpa, aged but able

With peanuts,stories, talks , my excited babble

Warmed by love only grandparents,enable.



--shubha

P.S. This poem was in response to a the propmt words fog/peanuts/love on a poetry group, . Happy to share this poem was accorded first place in this friendly competition

Of love and bonds

Of love and bonds

Make not a bond of love
For bonds, simply hold down

Love demands expansion with every breath we own
Forfeit self, hurt, expectation, worldly renown

Yet those bonds of love, that I have known
Untainted by expectation, have steadily grown

In me, seeds of love have sown
Lets me expand into the unknown

Love subsumes bonds into it's own
To untangle them,set you free, in love,grown.

--shubha

P.S. this poem came to me in response to a prompt ( bonds of love) on a facebook poetry group, wordsmiths . With apologies to Khalil Gibran fro the first line which is similar to one of the line sin Marriage- The Prophet . 

Love Was

Love was

Love was,when I first saw you
Wrinkled, red, eyes screwed up tight

Love was, when I first held you
Traced the contours of your tiny fingers

Love was, when I first whispered in your tiny ears
And you answered with a resounding wail

Love happened,when you first smiled
That toothless, gentle smile, in sleep , of the angels

Love toddled , learnt it's first steps
Holding on to love's hands

Love grew , with you
With each milestone
With every breath

Love is ,wherever you are
Whenever,I outgrow myself
To see the world, as you.

--shubha

P.S. A song for my son

Love is

Love is

Love is, the store declared, the teddy bear in the window , gifts galore,

Anything that helps you spend on that special someone, more,

Love is, said the novel, the first blush,racing heart, entwined hands ,

As you walk together, at sunset, over golden sands,

Love is, said the lover, the way the moonbeam traces your features, asleep,

The tightness in my heart, the shortness of breath, in longing steeped,

Love is, said the harried wife, finding a clean sink, at the end of a long day,

The affection you feel for that man on the couch, mouth agape, snoring away,

Love is, said the old couple on the porch, to sit together, having nothing to say,

To revel in the knowledge that you traveled far together, until today,

Love is, said the bereaved, the memory, that veiled presence at bay,

The bitter sweet nectar that in our heart stays,

Love is,said the philosopher, not what you receive, but what you give away,

Through the gouged channels of selfless charity, is how love flows your way, 

Love is....

It just is..........

It is all that is..............

--© shubha

Summer

Summer

Some short poems on Summer and Summer heat

Indian summer

The heat rises in shimmering waves
And crashes upon itself
While we seek momentary circles of relief
Under the whirring ceiling fans,that spread the hot air around
Under the shade of cool, spreading trees wilting in the sun's wrath,
In the closed AC rooms, cars , restaurants , cooled malls,
While the green raw mangoes, ripen to golden sweetness
To mimic the blazing sun,
As the summer heat, has just begun its climb to its crescendo.

--shubha

Summer woes

Sun burns unrelenting in the heavens,
Under which the baked earth, browns, rusts and in places ,is broken,
Mocks the plight of the burning, sweating populace
Mistake it seems to step out under his unflinching gaze,
Every thing seems to burn in his embrace,
Rains, as a relief,are awaited eagerly, the summer heat to erase,
Summer, that time of languid days, vacation fun,
Quickly becomes onerous under the burning sun.

--shubha

A poem that includes the words Ice/Sun/Kite 

Flying kites

At the beach , the sun blazed,
Over the warm sand, a fluttering kite in their gaze,
Two children ran, shouting in delight,
Strangers at first , a charming way to break the ice.

--shubha

First smiles

The warmth of your smile
Melts , the awkwardness of first meeting,
Like sun melts ice,
And let my aspirations soar to heights,
That mocks, the flight of the kites.

--shubha

A couple of poems on a picture of a sapling rising from the cracked earth....

Summer love

Although I may be broken,
In the glare,of your scorching indifference,
I send you this offering, a chance at redemption,
That rooted in my wet bosom,
Alive in your light,
This promise of life
May grow, mature, ripen,
In the the summer of our love.

--shubha

Parched lips

From her parched, drying lips
She uttered a blessing
In defiance, of the heat that strips,
From her damp depths,
Sustained life,
That is ,
Our benediction,everlasting.

--shubha

Colors of love

Colors of love

Surely the color of love must be those of a rainbow,

That blesses the sky with its ethereal glow,

Red, like the promise of vermilion on a blushing bride,

Orange, that symbol of love for the motherland, of valor and sacrifice,

Yellow, like the love of golden childhood memories,

Green, the love of a mother that blesses her children, with glistening treasuries,

Blue, the color of a youthful sky, filled with infinite possibilities,

Indigo, of a deepening twilight, that reminds of the creators' majesty,

Violet, that bittersweet color of a beloved's memory

Or just perhaps can it be that no one color ,or hue,

Can express love in its form,true,

That perhaps they all meld into the one white light,

To remind us that all originates in love, the infinite.

--shubha

Spring Love

Spring Love


Love, all that is

Life , its expression

Spring , the celebration

The resurrection of Life

The jubilation of Love



-shubha