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| Sreelekha Chatterjee |
Footfalls of Autumn
As dawn appears to reveal itself,
the delighted cackle of the sky’s fireplace is felt.
Emerald leaves’ susurration initiates earth’s symphony—
a whispering audience on a blustery day.
A medley of delightful birdsongs embodies
the spirit of the invisible, yet lively, air;
squirrels shuffle through the rills
of fallen leaves—yellow and brown—
rasping and scraping the last of their worldly existence.
The fading scent of the departing flowers wafts,
while all breathe a sacred prayer;
the nature flaunting a seraphic smile.
My timid soul weeping tears of joy,
as they all wave their gladsome hands.
***
An Orchestra Within Me
I perceive the hammer of ecstasy when a life in shades of jade
thrusts its way up the soil, after a slow, languorous phase beneath.
The throbbing of its existence resembles my heartbeats,
as in Mother Earth cradling her impatient baby, letting dreams weave.
The gurgling water of the rivers brimming with joy,
their steady burble reminding of a solemn song,
imitates the circulation of blood in my veins so mysterious and deep,
as if sailed down a mighty river, fatigued with wandering for long.
Warbling birds fill the air with their cheer and sorrow.
They are never weary of expressing—jollity or misery.
Like my laughter and tears as uncontainable and imperishable as they are;
sentimentality binds these, preciosity abides every delivery.
The leaves hum tunes that are hard to guess,
as if in a votive prayer, so gentle yet brave, the notes trembled to feel.
Like my mind speaks alien words I am unable to fathom;
emotional librettos winged, inner harmony divine and sincere in appeal.
The wind is heard when in open space as cheerful bells sound,
isolated from worldly distractions, louder when relieved from doubt.
My soul’s voice resonates the same tune of the echoing, feathered comfort.
A pleasant stimulus sparks my consciousness to regale, like vagabonds on the air crowd.
It’s all within my mortal frame, if only I know how to pay heed.
A living mind that knows no fear, neither time nor change can break;
for the universe is inside if only one comprehends.
I have risen from the green earth, its melodies will keep me awake.
***
Bio: Sreelekha Chatterjee is a poet from New Delhi, India. Her poems have appeared in Madras
Courier, Setu, Raw Lit, Pena Literary Magazine, The Mini Magazine of Assam, Verse-Virtual, The Wise Owl, Ghudsavar Literary Magazine, Orenaug Mountain Poetry Journal, Poetry Catalog, Suburban Witchcraft Magazine, Medusa’s Kitchen, The Literary Times, Ukiyo Literary Magazine, and in the anthologies—The Harvest & the Reaping, Winter Glimmerings, and Whose Spirits Touch (Orenaug Mountain Publishing, USA) and Christmas-Winter Anthology Volume 4 (Black Bough Poetry, Wales, UK).
Facebook: facebook.com/sreelekha.chatterjee.1/, X (formerly Twitter): @sreelekha001,
Instagram @sreelekha2023
I enjoyed both poems. They are so full of Nature's gifts.
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