Books

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THE WOODLAND MARVEL

In the thick, green and shadowy forest,

Where the wild speaks linguistic marvels,

Is where you will find him, staring at the swaying

Tall trees, drying his eyes with their soothing rhythms.

He has longed for a long silence to seethe venomously,

But no one has ever cared or stopped to listen, 

Everyone wants to breathe their own decorated venom,

So, he leaves the clattering town for a rumbling forest,

The two are noisy and alive but one a little more cordial,

The noise, he screens for raucous value and silent words,

But the forest is also venomous, yet it listens.

It whistles, sways, chirps, howls but listens.

The forest talks incessantly, and the town competes,

The town is proud, fronting superiority, venom.

The forest is also venomous, wild and perilous,

But there he is, listening to the woodland stillness.

Speaking silently, to the squirrels jumping by,

The birds rocking on the leafy branches…

He silently expresses his venom, touching his face.

The back of his hand is moist,

His face is wet, but he listens as the forest sways.

But he remains still, the bird chirping but silent,

Surprised, the sparrow stares: 

‘He’s deadly still, but his face is watery,’

marvels the old sparrow. 

‘The town talks and talks…

The forest talks but listens,’ to the sparrow he nods. 

And there, is the woodland marvel.

 WhO aRe We WITHOUT DrEaMs?'

Contemplating a dreamy winding path,
Paved with tiny, shiny black and white gravels,
Arranged neatly beneath a smooth glassy surface.
I could see the gravels, rough but pleasant to see.
But stepping on those gravels was surprising.
The surface was smooth like a new baby's skin.
There were no gravels under my feet though.
But the gravels made all look and feel...different.
Seen with the eye it's pleasant, shiny, starry, .
Touched with the eye it's rough, unpleasant,
Hurting my feet as I stepped on the gravels.
But is there such a path really?
Is there a rough surface made of gravels?
Is there a smooth surface creating an illusion
of a rough surface that disappears with a touch
And appears with a gaze?
I don't know because I am dreaming
of a winding path...
I need to create that path.
Smooth or rough, shiny or dull,
I will find out.
"But why dream? Why contemplate?
Act," my inner voice protested.
Today is that day...to dream of that
winding path.
I will act, but I don't know when.
Because today is a dreamy day.
Who are we without dreams?
But come, dream with me!
Do you feel the gravels
Beneath the smooth surface?
Dream on...

(c) 2026 #Kuirthiy 

POISE

I'm on this meandering path
whose end I can't see.
So I strike a pose and inhale,
But the path meanders on even more
So I stand and stare...
But then I see a white dot at a distance,
a black dot on a tree nearby,
and a red dot on the ground.
So I shake my head and breathe again.
A while later a white car passes by,
a raven flies away from the tree,
and I see a red ant crossing the road.
So I look up and walk on.
I don't know where this road leads,
but I know where I'm going.
I assume a straight poise!
I walk on as the red ant
stops as if to bit me "bye!"
and dashes into the grass.
I smile.
It is a pose,
and a pause with a poise!