Pritha's pomes

Some rhyme, romance and a wee bit reason maybe, bear with me ?

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Fear it, we do,  shudder at the very thought,

Deny the very word, and run amok distraught.

Finality it may bring, reality it jars us to

Is death only the end of life, to mortals like, me and you?


To live without laughter is akin to dying

To love without hope can take its toll

To know you were wronged can be hurtful,

But to know you were cruel can really kill one’s soul.


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The Debate

Lost in thought for  hours on end, sat a sage and a seer,

Both wise men, with thoughts profound had looked far and near.

The debate they raised was still not won and neither would back down,

The question they pondered had left them both, with less of a smile than a frown.


Back and forth they went for hours, mystified at their state,

Neither would give up their stance, nor would they call it stalemate.

Was the mighty ocean, stronger, than the distant snowy slopes?

Where would one find HIS reflection, and the answer to all hopes?


The two wise man talked long and hard about their points of view.

But, mention of tempests and jagged slopes, just caused their debates to renew.

Tired at their inept ways to find the answer they sought,

Each decided to ask around and see what surprises it brought.


Each went his merry way, full of conviction and pride

Certain that their wisdom, would bring revelations inside.

Some talked to them of the mountain, as the pinnacle of strength

While others felt the ocean floor, was a reflection of Divine depth.


Inconclusive but still hopeful, because their ideas were at stake,

Both paused as they saw a child, throwing pebbles in a lake.

The ripples went far and wide each time the stone found its mark,

It took a moment when both realized, they were both so much in the dark.


A little stone, as it hit the lake caused ripples all around,

Yet there was not a tempest, no storm, no tide, not even a sound.

The stone then sunk deep into the abyss of the lake,

And stillness slowly took over as if there was no break.


The sage and seer both laughed at their ignorance galore,

How do you compare a mountain range to the endless ocean shore?

The Infinite was not any one,  as the wise men had found.

It was the Horizon where both met, where all the answers abound.

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Twilight tears…

The boats came in one by one,  as twilight kissed the ocean blue

Like fireflies from a distant land, they filled up the misty hue.

The shoreline was a field of dreams, with smiling faces all around.

I steeled myself to the beautiful eve, and just waited for a distant sound.

A sound I knew I may not hear, because the music within me had died

Your soft farewell eons ago, still beat against my heart till it cried.

Yet amidst the song and cheer, I waited for the one I love.

With silent tears of hope and prayer, transfixed towards the ONE above.

The boats all found their home ashore, into loving embraces their owners went.

I tarried a while and then I knew, it was just another meaningless evening spent.

Gone was that music, as were you, and yet it was all so fresh in my mind.

Truer words weren’t spoken, when it’s said,  time doesn’t always heal a word unkind.

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The Sentinel

It towered over me in all its glory,

A monolith that seemed to guard the skies.

Humbled by this edifice I stood in awe,

Of a Sentinel, whose silence could drown a million cries.

Quiet and strong it let the winds of change,

Cut crevices deep and myriad cracks, on its wall.

Nature in all her fury, tested her might, and yet,

The Sentinel seemed to withstand every fall.

With reverence that came from the gods,

Could vanity be too far behind?

The Sentinel knew it wielded power

To invoke fear both far and wide.

A child’s play, one day, with  a few stones and dirt,

Amused the Sentinel till it could laugh no more.

Said, it to the little pyramid of rocks,

Are you here to settle some old puny score?

The minuscule stone edifice just stood its ground,

And quietly answered the monolith tower,

How can we even stand your glance,

When your eyes have been blinded by divine power?

That night there rose a a tempest wild,

When bolts of lightning played with the cruelest thunder

When every crevice on the mighty Sentinel,

Knew its time had finally come to fall asunder.

As the blue skies returned the next morn

They saw the Sentinel; now a broken tower,

A few yards away, a gleaming hillock of rocks

Seemed like the desert’s quiet edifice of power.

As I walked way from the towering glory

Of a monolith that once guarded the skies,

The little stone hillock by my foot,

Nudged me to live each day,  with slightly, less blinded eyes.


First love…

Her letters didn’t remain for  very long,

Nor did the ink last through the years.

Her fragrance, she thought, was forgotten by him,

As were  all of her silent and unshed tears.

Sands of time found different dunes

Landscapes changed every where

Yet when ever she heard his name,

She knew deep within her, he was still there.

When their paths crossed suddenly, one Chrstimas eve,

In joy and hurt she lowered her eyes.

The lines on their faces and their grays of age

Told of silent tales that neither could surmise.

She went her way with a cane in hand,

While his held a little toddler’s toy,

Yet in that twlight hour they both knew,

She was still the girl who filled him with joy.

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The Pebbles and the Footprints…

Black and white they stretched for miles,

Little pebbles along my beautiful shore.

I loved bathing them each time my waves crashed,

Only to recede and have them asking for more.

I cleansed the beach at the break of dawn,

I wet it with romance in the middle of the night,

Yet, there was never a time that I didn’t see,

Two pebbles that stood motionless to every wave in sight.

As I kissed them gently one spring morn,

I whispered quietly in their ear…What is it that holds you to your ground ?

When all the other pebbles seem to move in fear?

Smoothed with age and with my every tide,

The pebbles shone like  jewels on the shore.

We mark a spot that you have washed many a times, they said

Of two pairs of footprints that are here no more.

I caressed them softly one more time,

As I regaled in the pristine beauty of my frothy white

What do you talk of, little pebbles ? I asked,

Where are these footprints that have been lost from your sight ?

The pebbles told of a story from long ago,

Of a love that was new, bold, and had just taken flight.

The footprints, they said, were all I left behind,

As my ravenous waves too hungered for their love that night.

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Twilight or Dawn …

Dark satin skies with bits of piercing light,

Purple hues cloak within, tales of a forbidden night

Has my day ended or has it just begun?

Do I rise with this dawn, or get lost in this twilight?

Life stretches out in its myriad shades

Choose a color, it taunts, from my wondrous pallete

Let’s see you paint your world as you see,

Will you cower in the shadows or learn to break free?

I gently pick up the colorless brush,

And look at the canvas stretched before me.

Twlight or dusk, I laugh back at life,

Neither can rob myself of thee.

The taunting voice is now a gentle smile,

As life’s colorful pallete tempts my fate,

I pick up the brush one more time,

And decide to make this painting only mine.

I am no artist to know my hues,

I am no painter to understand the cues,

The colors take on a life of their own,

And deep within me,

………..the seeds of dawn and twilight are sown.