IT IS THAT TIME OF THE DAY

                                                           




                                        It is that time of the day when, 
                           The mighty Sun lord,
                           Goes down the horizon,

                           To the other part of the world
                           Leaving this side of the sphere,
                             

                          It is that time of the day when,
                          The silent void of the sky, 
                           Is filled with the noise of birds,
                           Flapping their desperate wings,
                           On way to night shelters. 

                          It is that time of the day when,
                          Lamps are lit everywhere,
                          To guide the wayfarers,
                          Lest one should miss the way,
                          And be lost in the dark.

                                        It is that time of the day when,  
                                       Most people return to their homes,
                          At the end of the day's labour,
                                      But some,  for the safety of others,

                                      Keep awake through the odd hours.
                            

                                                 
                                                 
                                           

WINTER IS LEAVING ....

                            


                                                 Winter is about to move on,
                                                 To  the southern hemisphere,
                                                  Stuffing into a travel bag,
                                                  All its accessories,

                                                   Its frost and snow and hails,
                                                    Its piercing winds and gales,
                                                   Are all packed up for now,
                                                   To be soon carried away.

                                                   And Nature is busy once again,
                                                   In making everything  perfect,
                                                   With  music, colours and  fragrance,
                                                   To greet Spring, the royal guest.

                                                   Who arrives with the pomp of a king,
                                                   Making everyone feel  delighted,
                                                   With renewed life force and vigour,
                                                   At the end of the unkind weather.

                                                  I notice the sun shining brighter,
                                                  Emanating more light and warmth,
                                                  Helping leaves and grass grow greener,
                                                  And the tiny buds turn blossoms.


                                                   I can see birds hopping merrily,
                                                   Picking up little twigs and straw,                                                                                                                  To build  their nests and forward,
                                                  The eternal process of creation.

                                                    

THE NIGHT IS AWAKE ......

                                                                                          The night is awake

   

      It is awake to be with those,

       That are still working,

      To keep life going,
      Even after the sun is gone.

      The night is awake,
      To look after the homeless,

      Shivering in biting cold,

      On the footpaths of rich cities. 

      It is awake to give company,

     To the lone night watchman,
    Walking up and down the streets,
    Breaking the silence with his whistle.

      And the night is earnestly awake, 

     To be with  braveheart soldiers,

     Facing the most  trying conditions, 

     Guarding the country's borders.

         
         It is awake in honour of the martyrs,
         Who laid  their precious lives down,
        To ensure that the nation remains safe,
         Through the wildest of enemy attacks.

         It is awake to console the bereaved kins,
         Who were waiting for the loved ones,
        To come home safe and  sound,
        But see them brought in the coffins.

                    
                    
                         
                            
                     
                     
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I WONDER WHY ......

  

           I  wonder why, 
We, humans, tend to ignore, 
The voice of our conscience, 
And act as we ought not to. 

 Having the sense of right and wrong 
 We are supposed to follow the right
 And eschew what is wrong
 But often act otherwise. 

I wonder why our reason fails,
To make us understand,
That we're superior to animals,
Just due to our moral sense.

And once we choose to lose it
We  can no more claim to be called

 ' The noblest work of God '
Even if we conquer the whole world.