Poems by Bam Dev Sharma

Poems by Bam Dev Sharma

 

I GUESS

I guess
Our hearts are
Like meadows 
Where luscious grass
Of hopes and despair
Bloom cajoling with balmy wind.

When the meadow turns dry,
It waits for joyful spring
And looks at the sky of faith
Relying on
Resolve of easterly breeze
to communicate spirited
words of mellifluous bless and rain
in myriads of shower!

Like the earth’s peaceful silence
Distinct sounds of hopes
Whisper
And coy rays of love
Pass through
High hills of dismay and agonies
Like the ardent horse rider
Swinging and galloping
In eternal confluence
Of surmounted ecstasy!

Our hearts embody
Tales of happiness and sorrow
And we pace with quotidian chores
Under the pensive sky
Like illusive moths
Darting across garden of destiny
From the cradle to the grave!

 

PROFOUND SILENCE

Standing on the scraggy dunes
we think of making castle
using 
pervasive bricks of our ego
mixing
the cement of
envy and jealousy
carving
pictures of indifference
and filling
the stones of personal glory.

We want to make it
as high as tall tower
for us to see
the world down
composed in our self gloat
using
telescope of personal
reasonings .

We wish to climb
as high as
the Greek hero
who desired
to touch the sun
with waxed wings.

Unwarry of mystical drama of life
we are bleamished in personal complacence
but the castle shakes
sooner or later
and we cry
when it begins
to crumble:
walls and columns fall
to thud on the ground
in the din of dilapidated derbies.

Then we are clasped
by pensive message of life and sigh in despair :
“Climbing is just vicarious dream .”
to become
numb rock of silence.

Soon we understand the sermon
that life has taught us
and love to disappear
in the sands
seeking
for profound silence!

 

LIFE

Life, an unfurled page
A puzzle
A frivolous dream 
A ruffling windy chores
A blazing day light
Of mercurial destiny
Riddle of fiddling appearance and disappearance
Like an oasis in the desert…….

A drive for jocund hopes
Like silhouettes across the woods
And unrequited hollowing quests
Merged in borrowed hours of time.

An elusive chapter
To be opened by oneself
With the alphabets of destiny
Percolated on mercurial words !

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