Poems by Jyotirmaya Thakur

Poems by Jyotirmaya Thakur

 

NIGHT JASMINE

The fragrant Queen of darkest nights ,
Brings the Stars twinkling silver lights ,
Petite and fragile takes nocturnal flight,
Like a perfumed dream soberly bright.

In Summer time my cot was placed very near
Beside the aromatic plant I slept without fear,
Even venomous snakes find it closely dear,
Family feared for me but I was clear.

The sapling was planted by my late father,
Nurtured by rain and my precious mother,
Two trees now stand stoutly as guards,
Twilight brings them to life in courtyard.

Fragrance spreads without any inhibition,
Darkness is depressed by its benevolence,
Buds bloom shining in sheer elegance,
Dawns spread a white carpet in remembrance.

Jyotirmaya Thakur@copyright.

 

OLD MAN’S SONG

I am now an old man as the body crumbles and vigour departs. I have a heart where a young man still dwells. Dark days and nights follow me now as my wife is dead. I remember the joys and remember the pain as I am living and loving my life again. My skin was once supple and smooth but now wrinkled and withered by age, which I slather with AHAs and retinol. My hair was thick and lustrous and now faded and grey, which I cover with clairol reservoir. I am no more an early bird , I rise as slowly as I want. It takes me time to dress in loose light clothes so I can dance where my steps lead. I have a hearty soft breakfast and then shuffle for daily walk. My knees like broken glass, suffer from vertigo and feel the aftershock. But everyday I greet the Sun and go out to have some fun as age is just a calibre of mind. The enthusiasm to live I never forsake for no man has eternal youth.Tithonus was held in the rosy arms of Dawn,who carried him off to the ends of the Earth, so her love would live on.
Though charming and young at the time, and despite his immortal wife,he too would succumb to old age in the end of his endless life. I have a mind to confuse things, as I grumble and groan the names of days and try to remember my grandchildren’s names. My memories are all washed by waters of night and scatter across the beach as sand or in dry desert as dust dunes fly. On a staff or cane I walk on flat or rough terrain with passion and love for finer things. In slow motion with mature wisdom I see the beauty of sky and clouds of bliss ;the trees and birds that sing my tune. And as the day draws to a close, I sit on my armchair and open a book on my lap of pages unread.

Jyotirmaya Thakur@copyright.

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