What Remains To Tell

Everything else passes through time

Art alone remains to tell that story

Nothing remains except dust or slime

Everything else passes through time

Justice served for a crime in its prime

Bringing them down from fame and glory

Everything else passes through time

Art alone remains to tell that story

Time To Wake Up, Krishna!

Jai SriKrishna, wake up, its morning!

Look! Its time, the birds are cooing

Why, even the bees are up, and buzzing

Jai SriKrishna, wake up, its morning!

Humanity is lost in darkness pervading

Larks are flying, the cows are mooing 

Jai SriKrishna, wake up, its morning!

Look! Its time, the birds are cooing

  

trial of my first triolet on tell

In hope that you hear, I tell you dear

Life is but a bubble of joy if you let 

It brightens as you do well for all, far or near

In hope that you hear, I tell you dear

You can be loving and caring, do not fear

Be joyful as you care with love; grim nor fret!

In hope that you hear, I tell you dear

Life is but a bubble of joy if you let 

a Can Do Attitude

A broken vessel

Looks like a well

Bottomless, rimless pit

A broken shell

Has water full

Of residue from

Three rivers

One is dried up

Second needs to be born

Finding it’s way

Down the winding mountain

Third river being

Cluttered and unclean

Boil that water

Purify the filth

Redo the base,

Recover the edges

Dry it and save it

For future to shine

In the clear water

Undo the clutter

For the birds

For the butterflies

To flutter their wings

Carrying souls with a ‘Can do’ spirit