Tuesday, July 10, 2007

sea, sorrowful

for a few fortnights,
melancholy visits often;

the wandering waves,
wash ashore wantonly;

the sea, sorrowful,
groans and mourns,
the death of two:
born and blossoming.

the first, a baby, of,
almost an angelic sister,
still nursing lost little one.

then this distant friend,
known for the first time,
sadly, after she lost breath.

the answers are not known,
that vain search though is on.

words, like wavelets,
wash my worried soul.

the sea, sorrowful,
sinks into the silence,
of simple looking sky.

when will we know,
what depths we go,
when we wear out.

welcome to this harbour,
where love plays valour.

dears depart to distant shores,
yet your ship has to be anchored,
not to be drifted deep into the sea.

the sea, sorrowful,
waits without waves,
with deep blue waters.

let me untie the knot,
let us drift against waves,
to be that sorrowful.

when will we know,
what is with this death,
when we sail itself.

sorrow visits me often, by the seaside;
thinkin of those two, travelling through;
troubling my heart, cleansing the soul;
deaths do purify, mending the mind.

the sea, sorrowful,
wavers, then waves,
wanting me,


avronea said...



StandbyMind said...

Really well expressed and written!

Lara Baggins said...


Wots this? whos the baby and whos the friend? words are always nice tho... good enough to sugarcoat reality

The Lass said...

the sense of loss that death gathers, is inexplicable ...but time heals, and as you have said death dos clean and purge the soul...
by the way, loved your poem...:)

Its ME ! said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Its ME ! said...

oh sir !!..its u !!...
how r u?..dint kno it was ur blog..

Gee said...


The Ugly One said...

with warmth.

i've learnt you are generous.

very true. sunny giggles will stay with me for sometime.

death is always confusing, except that thats it.

its me,
now you know me.


thanks, generally.

avronea said...

bledy hell, i'll miss you!

Stories From The Soul Town

There lies a magical land. Surrounded by the green ghats to the west, gurgling great rivers on the east, the valley with the very blue sky. A temple town of the tamils. Sitting on the dancing rock on the highland overlooking the valley, the writer procreates the lives of the people of this lesser known south west. Full of strange yet simple souls.