Traveler And The Road

I conversed with d road one day,
and it sang to me strange songs,,
''I am slave of none..
yet ruled by everyone..
I reside in no country..
i belong to no colour,,,
for I wear soil, rain and nature..
for I am an apparel of air..
And if you are a traveler..
I am your travel...
If you are a lover..
I am your company,,
If you are accompanied, I am your lover..
Many travel and reach destiny..
But blessed are those who travel and reach and find only me...

poem by Aman Saa
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Story Of Desire

forced by desire to write
one night I took a pen and paper under light
I dreamed, imagined and not what I did
Still could not make the pen and paper meet

I looked inside as well as outside
But failed to find a subject to describe
The wind blew and moon appeared
But they did not made my mind delight

I thought and thought and fought a lot
And slowly my will began to broke..
At the end, I forced my desire to die..
With a smile, of course of failure and shy! !

poem by Aman Saa
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Little On Life

Life is strange,,,
it teaches us to walk and smile in sunrise,,
One day so it happens
from the road of roses it sweeps us to the river of deserts..
and gifts us with rolls of thorns,,,
we cry, we shout, and even dip to silence of night,,,
though life flows on its own..
and finally one day
it carries us again to the banks..
then we just stare at the times we traveled through
and say to ourself
that all that happened, happened for good..
journeys will always need stopage to have the perfect measures..
just as rivers are incomplete witout deserts.

poem by Aman Saa
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August Lanes

time cannot have a name
neither timelessness.
But an awakening may arrive
in a moment newness may begin
as you come across a passage
that makes you think over again
Is it the right way to walk?

wonder cannot have an accent
as fragrance cannot have definition
but the midnight blossom of yours
in the lone garden of this empty time
speaks of a wonder whose fragrance is all

I have been to several abandoned corners
with the strings of my existence
I have tied many a pole
Yet every time I reflect
it seems the rules of life are different
There is a reflection in the east window pane

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poem by Aman Saa
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Seasons...(one)

If you are the roof,
Let me be the ground
Let love nurture love
In the hut of our hearts

If there is going to be a truth
Be it our dreams
If something is going to fly
Wish it not after
gifting us the sky of life,
the wings of our love


There is a life and
If it is lived
let its boundaries be
beyond graves
If we want one another
let us be ours
for life is a seed, a flower

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poem by Aman Saa
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Journey Or Stoppage

The distances, they were never erased,
the differences could never be bridged.
An d with smiles you went away (or never came)
always a little and a little away,
It wasn't so that I held you,
still you escaped-
speaking, enjoying each step.
as if your indifference was at its zenith.
Ask me not and you would never,
but every disclosed side of a coin is a veil of the other.
My smiles could only come out in reply to your good-bye.
Ask me not what it veiled behind.

After Love

I hadn't learnt to walk then....
Forgive me for not knowing how to hold your hands..
to hug mine steps with yours.
Forgive for knowing to read your dreams before your eyes wake up..
I hadn't learnt how flowers bloom then,,

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poem by Aman Saa
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Paused Prayers

And all of sudden,
with a tender movement
in the waves of the sky
and colors of passing time
you come close.
I hear your breath,
in and out as you
I live in your life.
I live for this invitation
that in reality changes its sight.
That in reality strides aside.
Today may all prayers be paused
Let me share the gleam of silence with God
and let us reach to a conclusion
of our debates on love and war.
And that how faith stands in ruins
and He is made in clay.
This moment everything turns easy for me,
An ocean even seems to be less in my eyes
I can narrate gospels in few words

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poem by Aman Saa
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Mounting Shores

It is at such moments all times blend
and tomorrow and yesterday stand
divided on a faded boundary
a frontier of a lost rotation
This lost frontier of identity calls out to me
Like a far sailing boat waves to the lost soul
on the banks of a disappearing eternity painted by a river.

In my canvas I have portraits of diverse lands
When I sit in loneliness I am perturbed
by too much company of myself
Silence becomes louder voice and I seek desperately
for an unending hideout
from this sky limit vastness
of a unexpressed

I had never prepared for the passage of time
So this moment when I find myself
No longer young as my last song
I stand with nothingness of words

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poem by Aman Saa
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Some Silence, Some Words

Today somewhere a mirror broke
And a music of end splashed in the pages of time,
Someone lost his meanings in the broken mirror..
And an unending silence flowed
Many things happen silently, , ,
How the silent weeping of the lost meaning wander in the depth of the night, , ,
I unveil the sea of darkness...i find only silence
And the music of the end keeps on splashing around
Life is all about some silence and some words…
Far away a poet was looking for words, .
And a poem was seeking for its understanding, ,
for the heart where words dwell with meanings, ,
As long as they both were away everything was all right...
And when they met, , ,
the poet lamented on the end of words of the poem, , ,
and the poem on the unending silence of the poet, , , , ,
poems are not about understanding....
poet is not about words, , , ,

poem by Aman Saa
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A lady as sandhya

She had often exclaimed that I was like the night
A candle light cannot claim to explore whom,
A riddle, or perhaps a crossword without a guide.
She tried to fill me
sometimes the empty lanes across me
and sometimes those deserted downward directions.
She either tried to make a way
or find an escape.
She did not knew that
each mistake of her ink
was leaving a scar on my empty belonging.
The trembling of a night in pain
has a treaty with the crust of the earth
of that of secrecy...
She did not knew that the wounded
words were setting a pyre.
My love was instead looking for life
in little spaces like her finger tips
and the sunset on her forehead.
Slowly I began to love this web of her

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poem by Aman Saa
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