Spring Showers

Rain falls like teardrops,

Cold reflections of sorrow.

Rain falls like dewdrops,

Wishes for a better tommorow.

The drops come during rain,

Striking on the pain.

The drops come during cloudy nights,

While the sun is caged by the absence of light.

Showers bring rainbows,

Beacons of shining hope.

Showers bring a crystalline clarity,
Curtains on past tragedies.

Weekend Poetry

These are recordings of a poetry reading I did on Saturday. It was sponsored by the Coimbatore Arts and Theater Society, and it was rather nice to meet other people who like words.

Hope you enjoy them!

(I shall apologize now for my little brother's photo-bombing proclivities).

Beyond the Window

Love

Signs

No one reads the signs,

On the roads or the faces.

The incessant media barrage,

Has inured us to things of importance.

Eyes can flash stop signs,

Yet in the rush of life,

No one even sees them,

In the throes of their own strife.

Eyes can flash hazard signs,

Yet they are always ignored,

And rather perceived as amusement,

By the busy and bored.

Eyes can flash stop signs,

Yet in the daily commotion,

People choose to ignore them,

Instead speeding to their destination.

Eyes can flash caution signs,

Yet people do not seem to worry.

They think it is just an overreaction,

For a problem that is temporary.

Eyes can flash crossing signs,

Yet some prefer not to acknowledge,

When others need their patience,

because they are fast losing it.

Eyes carry many signs,

That express not only actions,

But go farther than the ones on the road.

By blatantly showcasing emotions.