The Seasons.
1
Nothing can irk life more than biting cold.
It puts the routine’s route much on hold.
Colder receptions hurt harder than chilling snow.
Benumbed bodies battle for a movement;
Frozen thoughts cripple cerebral circuits;
Nights turn pythons, swallowing rat like days.
The slumbering Sun stifles diurnal targets.
Darkness reigns three fourth of twenty four seven.
Snow storms and hurricanes steal
the show.
The non- stop viral invasion
warps all hopes.
The inhospitable days and nights
impound
Body and mind for a beastly battering round .
2
Waiting in sweltering heat for warmer
inlets,
With thoughts whipping as cat of nine tails,
There is nothing to give; nothing to share;
Endearing evenings get stiffly
jammed
Between burning days and
bullying nights.
The tropics envy the colder regions for their breather
During their sunny days of
surprising sojourns.
Heat is Hell with no preceding alarm bell ;
The sun burnt skin needs identity more than care.
Let not Nature’s prejudices make
parity bare.
For Summer’s voice is full of a seasoned snare.
The victim’s want for warmth is weakened by wrath
When the wind blows hot and the waves steam,
Life’s leading precepts are caught mid stream.
3
There is a lot here, to bestow upon others.
A lot to own as well as to share.
Nothing to bemoan or berate, in a process.
Prosperity is no myth to mystify the mind.
It spurts and grows in a leap,
Like spreading and penetrating light,
That takes darkness deftly out of sight,
Cheering up those, seeing things right.
Those who see the soil as a source of wealth
And not as a beckoning burial ground ,
Spring up as greener pastures, garnering hope
To steer mankind with strength of joy.
Living means, being followed on a path
With a warranty for weigh bridges
Assuring right gains at the right time.
4
Fate makes the final moments fall
However one’s goalposts grow
tall .
The falling things fall with a felicitous thud.
The supporting soil stakes its claims.
Colours change as things fall in a free flow.
It is not that leaves alone change colours.
The smile on a falling face is full of winning grace.
The changing sense of smile is a fit of fine finale.
Life in pains or gains, the fall is a form of gratitude
For pleasures enjoyed and the pressures relieved.
The Fall is a fruitful, firming up fair play
That makes all things fall for a sure stay.
The earth’s seasons are made up of a solid four
That keep life’s happenings hail wail and more.
P.Chandraaekaran.
