Time bird

Anant Mohan

Its eyes pierce through the veil of time,

seeing echoes and whispers, shadow and shine.

They urge me to watch as life unfolds

To embrace its beauty, both new and old.

Its beak casts songs, both fierce and sweet,

melodies born from chaos and peace.

It hums of calm and roaring strife,

a symphony woven from the threads of life.

Its wings stretch wide, a boundless embrace,

beckoning me to soar to find my place

through open skies, where dreams reside.

It carries me onward, a fearless guide.

To you, the time bird, keeper of life’s brief flame,

you cry my fate, and you call my name.

With you, I rise, I fall, I see—

the fragile gift of life’s brevity.

***

Bio: Anant Mohan is a student and rising architect passionate about cars and photography. He also loves to write, sketch, and play instruments. His stories and poems have been published in several journals.

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Setu, November 2024

Dawn and Dusk: Meenakshi Mohan

(The artworks of Anant Mohan inspire these two poems)

Nature always wears the colors of the spirit.

                                              Ralph Waldo Emerson

Meenakshi Mohan

Dawn

Cheeo cheeo cheeo, a melodic tempo,

a light knock at my window

woke me up from my early morning reverie.

With dreams still lingering in my eyes, I lazed around, 

listening to the musical trill of a pink-grey cardinal,

sitting at the ledge of my window.

I looked out the window,

the sky painted in roseate pink,

a soft whispering of the ocean bidding good morning.

I picked up my guitar and walked to my backyard,

overlooking the mingling of the ocean and the sky –

all colored in bright vermillion.

I watched the grandiosity of the birth of the Sun,

and the tender caressing of the waves, 

as a mother endearing her newborn.

Mesmerized, I sat at the edge of a cliff,

and let the resplendency of nature drown me in its nostrum, 

the trees enveloped in mist danced in a trance.

The birds went out for their day’s work,

the squirrels jumped around for their bounty,

I picked up my guitar and let my music float,

in congruence with the music of nature –

rustling of leaves, chirping of birds, 

the acoustic tempo of the waves.

It was the beginning of the day!

***

The Boy with Guitar by anant Mohan

Dusk

I sat at the edge of a cliff,

and watched the tangerine Sun,

sinking in the heart of the ocean

with its hues spilling over the wavering water.

A soft breeze tousled my hair, 

and a whiff of cloud gently caressed me,

the trees danced with a tempo,

showering flowers and leaves.

The birds returned home-bound 

in a triangle to nestle quietly with their offspring

the bouncy squirrel quietly took shelter

in his hideout with his day’s bounty.

I let myself drown in the silent harmony of nature.

I picked up my guitar and let its melody float 

with the rhapsody of the waves

and the euphony of rustling leaves.

My soul is like an enchanted boat …

Whilst all the winds with melody ringing

It seems to float ever, for ever …

There will be yet another tomorrow,

and more dreams 

intoned the silence of nature.

It was the end of the day.

***

The boy on the cliff  by anant Mohan

Note: My soul is like an enchanted boat …Whilst all the winds with melody ringing. It seems to float ever, for ever … The lines are from Percy Bysshe Shelley’s poem -- My Soul is Like an Enchanted Boat.

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Setu, April 2023