Poetry: Nicho Rongchehonpi

Nicho Rongchehonpi
A family garden love

It always amazes me, the meanings a garden holds,
Nature’s magic whispered, in stories often told.
Seeing through the poet’s eyes, everything seems bright,
So subtle yet so magical, a pure and gentle sight.

My parents love their gardening, but time is their great foe,
Juggling corporate lives, their dreams still grow.
A green yard they are raising, amidst their busy days,
Nurturing life with love, in so many heartfelt ways.

Now I’m far away from home, but memories remain,
The blooms of joy on faces, when new plants sustain.
I miss the smell of wet mud, and those loving hands,
The two most amazing people, making life expand.

Papa plants the big trees, fruits and spices near,
A kitchen garden flourishing, with every passing year.
Mummy finds the flowers, colors bright and wide,
Her hands bring hues of joy, to every corner’s side.

Three children with their buckets, watering with glee,
Around the small green yard, a lively family.
These stories of our garden, back in Diphu town,
Hold more than just the greenery, more than earthy brown.

It’s not just the green yard, where my thoughts align,
But the love and bonding blooming, oh so fine.
A smell of togetherness, in every leaf and petal,
Five members of my family, with love we always settle.

Each one a type of plant, in our garden’s grand design,
Together making beauty, our hearts so intertwined.
Different things together, making life’s bouquet,
In our garden blooming love, in every single way.

Petals and Purpose

Oh, what a beautiful day,
I exclaimed to myself,
As I wake from my sleep,
Feeling the pulse of life.

The weather is tricky these days,
They call it monsoon,
But summer too is knocking,
Its heat closes behind.

Last night, rain fell heavily,
A torrent so fierce,
I feared for my petals,
Newly sprouted, so fragile.

It’s not that I dislike the rain,
But yesterday it was harsh,
Each drop felt like hail,
Threatening my delicate bloom.

Today, the sun awakens me,
Its light so bright,
For a moment, I fear,
Its heat might dry me out.

You see, my world is my petals,
The essence of my existence,
To thrive and bloom beautifully,
So I may belong in this garden.

I love the security here,
No need to fear thirst,
Proper nutrition,
And tender care abounds.

I must grow strong and healthy,
To inspire awe in onlookers,
My mother did the same,
And taught me her legacy.

I am the red rose,
Fragile yet thorny,
Adored by many,
Despite my imperfections.

I’ve heard it said,
Everything happens for a reason,
Yet the mystery eludes me,
Still, my purpose is clear.

Loving myself is hard,
For I cannot embrace,
My thorns draw blood,
And sometimes, I forget to bloom.

But a mantra I discovered,
Changed my world entirely,
To appreciate all around me,
The soil, the wind, the rain.

The sun that blinds onlookers,
And those who call me beautiful,
These unseen gifts,
Are my life’s true treasures.

After seeing life’s bounties,
How can I dwell on my thorns?
One defect,
Overshadowed by countless blessings.

A message from the heavens,
Revealed these gifts at birth,
And those I must earn,
Through my time on this earth.

These same gifts in different forms,
Given to each at birth,
Thank you for listening,
To my dream from last night.

Have a happy morning, always,
Make each day better,
For the beauty of life,
Is in its tender, unseen gifts.

Dreamland harmony

Let’s go to a dreamland, come with me,
Where magic is normal as can be.
I wake each morning to Polo’s call,
His tugging paws, my morning thrall.

He pulls my PJs, wants me to see,
The garden where I sip my tea.
He chases hummingbirds in flight,
Their morning drink, a pure delight.

Imagine a place more gorgeous still,
No concrete pots, just nature’s will.
Magic blooms in every leaf,
A green that lightens hearts in grief.

Vines that climb, a hairy sprawl,
A baby creature, green and small.
Light green leaves that catch the sun,
Dark greens that comfort, second to none.

Polo and I, not alone,
Friends visit from lands unknown.
Red mushrooms with spots so white,
Fairy panchayats hidden in sight.

In disguise, they gather round,
Their meetings make a charming sound.
Debates on flowers, wild and free,
The pan-fairies’ work, their decree.

Unwanted plants, their silent gift,
A testament to nature’s shift.
This garden’s song, a peaceful tune,
Mother Earth’s sweet afternoon.

In a world where war and chaos reign,
Let’s embrace Earth’s gentle strain.
Amidst the strife, find healing peace,
In nature’s arms, let turmoil cease.

Appreciate each shade of green,
Birth hope in places rarely seen.
Love the flowers, faith will grow,
Mother Earth, our greatest show.

This will mend our broken world,
In nature’s magic, life unfurled.
When it rains, you’ll see the dance,
Of tango steps, a second chance.

Self-Statement: My name is Nicho Rongchehonpi originally from India belonging to the Karbi community. Currently I'm residing in Taiwan for my studies. I have always cherished writing as my hobby and the language that I usually use is my native language karbi and English. My work often explores the realms of imagination and the embrace of nature, drawing from real-life experiences that touch on themes of family, culture, and folklore.

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