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Poems: House Sparrow 

At times, I am that house without the sparrow. My windows and doors still wait for it to sneak in. The walls still wait to hear its excited chuckles...

House Sparrow 

At times, I am that house
without the sparrow.
My windows and doors
still wait for it to sneak in.
The walls still wait
to hear its excited chuckles.
The nooks and niches
still wait for its determined beak
to tuck in its nest.
While, with its patience
I still wait for my poem
to hatch and hop out unsteadily,
covered with straw and leaves,
it is as surprised as the chicks !


Milky Way 

Often I want to know…

where am l? 
Where is the universe?

Then the words,
the thought 
leaves my brain,  
flows with my blood
to my every cell, 
every nerve
from head to toe, 

goes to the earth below,

grows with the roots,
then climbs the trees
slides from the leaves, 

catches the wind, 

blows up, to the clouds, 
the sky, up till the moon

shoots still above,
  
round and round the sun
spins with the planets, 
then spins with the Milky Way 
travels still away, to galaxies 

but then... then comes a void,

a darkness, a nothingness 
my thought boomerangs

comes back to my mind,

the universe it seems is not till 
where my mortal eyes can see,
 
but it is, always was, right here
spinning within me,
 
endless, endless

Moss Days

This is how the rain is seeping in …

with a sound steadily falling 
on the roof of my thoughts,

with the rain drops dancing 
on the wet, glistening porch,

with the wet curtains shimmering 
at the open windows and doors,

with the tap tapping voice sliding 
from the roof ridge and eaves, 

with the spray of gems sparkling 
on the plants in the balcony,

with the lightning striking 
with a loud bawl and yell,

and with the green moss spreading 
on the wet wondering walls,

that’s how the rain is seeping in …

into my days, into my life
without even coming in.

Origami 

When the storm is thundering 
can you catch the wind 
and stuff it in your pocket?

And the lightening, can you 
record it within your ears
and play it anytime?

With the music of raindrops
can you dance like the 
pitter-patter, tap, tap?

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But, I have just captured 
the storm in my words, 
and folded the paper 
into a paper boat.

Now my poem is ready to sail.
But, in these turbulent streams of water
how far will my words go?

(Minal Sarosh is an awarded Indian English poet, haikuist and novelist. She has published two novels, Soil for My Roots (2015) and Wicked Money (2020). And her two poetry collections are Mitosis & Other Poems (1992) and A Lizard’s Tail and Other Poems (2020). Her poems have been widely published in prestigious journals and anthologies including These My Words – The Penguin Book of Indian Poetry (2012) among others. She lives in Ahmedabad, India.)

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