My room has a awesome view of a Shiva temple. This view refreshes me every time I wake up and look at it. Through the fog the view is even more beautiful.
freshness I drenched in upon its view,
laziness clutched my eyes half-closed,
but gracious was the way it withdrew.
My indolent gaze through this hazy
curtain, that veiled all entities behind,
nature's voices arise, and the image
of the previous winters, it reminds.
Winter's advent upon this year, sprouted
the first of its signs that morning,
a coldness ensued amid a newer ambience
and a sublime view was dawning.
A beauteous canopy stretched to a view,
where the morn gleam started to intrude,
clearing the fog to a sight, greenery clad,
through which a brilliant dome protrudes.
A view abreast of sunrise I shall rank,
in beauty, ageless, and the grandeur,
a breeze seemed to adorn its cleansing
touch, whence a breath I in took, so pure.
A temple it was, the knowledge of which
to me, against it beauty, mattered not,
for within my soul, devout or unbeliever,
mind not, a sense of wonder it begot.
Feeling, though not enlightening, yet
uncanny, a spirituality within me induced,
upon whose behest I turned devout of the
sight, through a regularity that ensued.
Constancy, I hoped for, yet it has its bounds,
as portrayed by the pleasant winter's farewell,
so did the sight, as last was its grace, since
a hindrance upon it, sadly befell.
Concrete abode towered, industrial token,
blatantly veiling the view I revere,
though abode to working souls, yet in
contrast, how dreary they appear.
Raised brilliantly by wealth immense,
through time that necessitated a change,
greater was the wealth the previous phase
sufficed me whence a sincerity I attained.
To the temple, I went in hope of the feelings
revival, but I sensed an aura so varied.
I realized, the almighty's grace, a humbler form
that was, that just my memory now carries.
Poetry by Nilotpal Sarmah
Read 233 times
Written on 2011-04-12 at 02:44
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A temple amid the fog
A morning drenched in the white fog, afreshness I drenched in upon its view,
laziness clutched my eyes half-closed,
but gracious was the way it withdrew.
My indolent gaze through this hazy
curtain, that veiled all entities behind,
nature's voices arise, and the image
of the previous winters, it reminds.
Winter's advent upon this year, sprouted
the first of its signs that morning,
a coldness ensued amid a newer ambience
and a sublime view was dawning.
A beauteous canopy stretched to a view,
where the morn gleam started to intrude,
clearing the fog to a sight, greenery clad,
through which a brilliant dome protrudes.
A view abreast of sunrise I shall rank,
in beauty, ageless, and the grandeur,
a breeze seemed to adorn its cleansing
touch, whence a breath I in took, so pure.
A temple it was, the knowledge of which
to me, against it beauty, mattered not,
for within my soul, devout or unbeliever,
mind not, a sense of wonder it begot.
Feeling, though not enlightening, yet
uncanny, a spirituality within me induced,
upon whose behest I turned devout of the
sight, through a regularity that ensued.
Constancy, I hoped for, yet it has its bounds,
as portrayed by the pleasant winter's farewell,
so did the sight, as last was its grace, since
a hindrance upon it, sadly befell.
Concrete abode towered, industrial token,
blatantly veiling the view I revere,
though abode to working souls, yet in
contrast, how dreary they appear.
Raised brilliantly by wealth immense,
through time that necessitated a change,
greater was the wealth the previous phase
sufficed me whence a sincerity I attained.
To the temple, I went in hope of the feelings
revival, but I sensed an aura so varied.
I realized, the almighty's grace, a humbler form
that was, that just my memory now carries.
Poetry by Nilotpal Sarmah
Read 233 times
Written on 2011-04-12 at 02:44
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
by Nilotpal
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