Grandeur Of Nature
The darkness showcases its grief,
unpublished,
in the night-sky of remembrance.
The unknown flashes its whereabouts
in the hurling winds of anonymity,
above the almighty sea.
And then wrapped in scarlet,
the sky blushes,
under the sun's romantic caresses.
The youth of the spring,
blooms in one flower of awakening.
And the watery edge
of the lotus-leaf
portrays the curve of karma-yoga.
Bathed in dew-drops,
yet untouched by water!
poem by Sarvesh Kulkarni
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The creator's struggle
The uneven shadows
of a ghastly nightmare
cast their indescretions
upon my silently closed eyes.
The poignant pointlessnesses
of the unexpressed emotions
surface in my eye-pupils
and their glistening encore
gets lost,
in the tremendousness
of the mist of irony.
I grope in despair,
at the hidden archives
of my being,
and come up with a painful pang
of abstract unexpression
which might be the birth-root
of all this enormous creation.
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poem by Sarvesh Kulkarni
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Of Birth And Death
Of birth and death,
life is but a cross-fade.
A tinge of meaning,
painted to the trembles of my tendrils
as the soul of each encaptured emotion.
The aumkara of the first voice of the universe,
fumes up in my crevices.
With the smoke of ashes,
the wisdom of soul
smothers my ambience.
In the receding mist
of the unscribbled unclarity,
as I open my eyes-,
flown with the wind,
I find me gone…
I take birth,
in each bubble of fatality.
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poem by Sarvesh Kulkarni
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In search of beauty
Why is it so?
That beauty is an unfathomable mistress?
…like the uncertain truth…
Of a certain paradox…
The beauty of joy,
Is in its irony.
The beauty of smile,
In its tear.
The beauty of desire
Is in its incompletion.
The beauty of a poem,
In its vain-ness.
That of emotion,
In its numbness…
That of sorrow,
In its convalescence.
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poem by Sarvesh Kulkarni
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Cosmic Me
in these futile
spasms of existence,
some cobwebs,
still unstirred,
support this life
with their indelible words
of a forgotten wisdom.
the aum-kaar
that spur as the first voice,
of the created universe,
still echoes in my veins,
and arrives in the pupil of my eyes,
as the secret of my being.
my inner world,
remains still unborn
and as the birth of my being
sets it's first felt ripples
of pain,
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poem by Sarvesh Kulkarni
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