Mukthakalu-Small Poems Poem by Varala Anand

Muktakaalu
- Anand Varala

Plants are scintillating as the stars of the sky.
They rise into trees and fill life in the heart.
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The plants planted are lined up as drops of love.
Eventually they fill the world with props for life.
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Plant is neither a pauper nor a trade good.
It's a bliss that pours out the breath, a treasure of life in the cupped hands.
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Growing tree has nothing for itself, except shade.
It has sound but not sorrow; it knows song but not silence.
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Anger can be contained; hatred can be endured.
Experiencing the void is intolerable.
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We dip and drown in the flow of time and reach ashore.
What we realize is, distress is deeper than delight.
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Umpteen nights of silence and umpteen sorrowful awakenings,
Till the dawn shoots up, till the wisdom awakens.
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Does good poetry get sold anywhere?
Only enshrouds the heart anytime.
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The rhythm of music enchants.
The rhythm of heart enthralls.
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Grief, either showers as rain or inundates as upsurge,
It is my intimate friend. It cleanses me and quits.
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People say, Love is difficult to express.
In fact why to express, it is to experience and enjoy.
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Love is kind, it fills the heart with greenery.
Love is unkind too, it shatters and barrens me.
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Wish to stand firm, I agitate, what to do my friend,
'Inside' lava and downpour at the same time.
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My hopes, agitations and experiences, all,
I keep translating. That's evolving as poetry.
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Look at the sea, a fathom high and ceaseless flow,
Look into me, full of love and ceaseless breath.
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Three oceans in me, two showers through eyes,
The other encamped in the heart.

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Awake or asleep, long nights and closed windows.
The transparent truths move in and out.

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