Because I can not do away with the words, Some sad, a few glad but mostly gracious Trying to be, yet when the wounds are fresh, Try however I hard, the letters bleed and grimace- And waiting them to heal, resolve to begin afresh.
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
Your Silence by Somnath Mitra
Your Silence
God, I keep on listening hard,
To your silence intently..........
As yet unseen, unfelt truths
Take shape in my expectant heart.
Glimpses half-reaching me indeterminately,
But I lose it in an instant,
And I give up in despair.
Your Love your Peace,
The eternal resting place
That you are,
I do not know who tells me
Climb till you find His grace.
The daily business of of inflicting wounds
Upon myself as well as others,
Has drowned me in perpetual darkness.
But I vividly remember
How once after I suffered for long,
In an ethereal light I saw myself bathed.
Clear and loud all around
Ringing prayer bells' sound,
Made all my miseries disappear.
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Looking Back by Somnath Mitra
Looking Back
Be it winter, summer or rain,
God has been kind to children.
To give them joy in every turn,
In chilling cold or blinding sun.
These little fairies run about in joy,
The shining faces of each girl or boy.
Make the dreary world of the grown-ups,
Have a touch of hope for the coming years.
Every child is you and I of the yesteryears,
When we too ran about with little cares.
And talked with our playthings and the trees,
Each day of our tender lives brought some bliss.
How we wonder and miss them now,
Wishing to revisit those innocent days somehow.
© SOMNATH MITRA 2010
Sunday, 27 June 2010
Love

Love
Whatever I have
Let it be scattered,
Over the narrow strips of the sky.
The sun from this land,
Which is absolutely mine, personal
Which has spread roots
Only in my heart.
I had presented you Kolkata at dawn
I wished you had handled with care
I had parted from a full moon
Of the shal forest,
And the riverside solitude-
I murmured
Dream these for me tonight
But in vain.
You simply didn’t care.
The face of poem, my serene love
The trust and anguish of
An uncanny truce,
Let it not be lost
Let it be yours, hidden awkwardly
Deep within, silently caressing.
© SOMNATH MITRA 2010
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