Though it's my own, Hardly I guess,
How would my room seem in my absence

Ever dwelling loneliness, There maybe
Lay across my bed seeing the mirror
Sun-drawn arts of window, could
Wander as like on the walls and floor
Daffodils on the wide open pot, perhaps
Be at the prayer to the dancing Krishna

The pleasing scent of bath room, Could
Be talking to the dripping drops in silence
About the nudes ever watched
The unheard melodies of curtain, Should
Wake the soul of the room up again

But whenever I enter into my room
Even that just seems as how was left

With colorful beats that jump on his face
Having the power be feed his silicon wing
The electric cuckoo plays the blissful song
Inner fields of closed eyes in there at once
Blossoms a green huge tree and that dance
Of both brain and heart; As the very ruling king
He does melt the soul the mind and everything;
Nothing be of solid on these fields and ways

The melted soul that I disentangle and gaze
On the banks of tunes flow where divine gather'd
That as of babies smile spread on breeze
And of very harmony from the ancient ground
Birds of music flies to the Earth greatly feather'd
Accord I ever dance inside caring not around

I hear the footstep behind every dark
Aiming my keen ears it doth quitely leak

Like delightful rain drops escaped from window bar
Spattered on my face with the force brought from far
It enlightens me being distinct and pattern
Gratually comes to null, Then starts growing from there
All then, I would smell the jasmine
Those blossomed one long ago morning

I sometimes hath intended watching the steps
And found some thoughts scattered around them
With their search for some shoulders to lie down
Ever I tried and never I could
To collect them all, and bind as poem

Then as usual would try going on to sleep
Bearing with my disability and her disdains
And thinking the true image of the mirroring light
Which is as yours, I see and feel but touch
Though, desires still being burnt like this candle
With no care about the watchers!

She went to the garden where the Moon is lower
Sharing fairy tales with smiling face of flower

Having picked some rainbows she filled her basket
Collected shining stars and dumped her pocket
And all her way, the colours of rainbow and stars
Leaked make the heavenly trails

The snow cheered lying on her doorstep
The sun dwelled on her wrist
And, even the rain dropped by her on its thirst,
Though, none there on real to stop the tails of snakes
That creeped on the legs and made her slip
By the sideways the people selling their ownselves
Offered not a hand to hold her up.

Then I, a passer by on my way
collecting colors for the butterflies of my garden
Pleased to give her one,
And then her earth got the orbit back!

The tails of snakes got ashed by the curses of her weep
Well, that is the blessing Of heaven she did always keep
Again, hoisted the smile on lips, heaps of love on eyes,
She kneeled down and started picking stars!
Now again there started the shower from where it stopped

You never knew where I came from
Neither I did where you came from
Among us no one knew who followed whom
Though, That drizzling eve, we shared one trail
Well Knowing our wrists be touching for a while

With the evidence of mount
The wild falls that did shout
And song of the birds through woods
We acquainted laughed and blissed

Our children with faces of us
But those still not born
Enjoyed the snails on thorn
And the tragan flies, came along with us

Through that trail, we spend some ages
Then reached the road that leads to the world
Alas! There we found our paths opposed

Then, by one night not dividable among us
We dared to apart with wet eyes
And empty smiles pressed on lips

In the imminent days
By the every search on this game
Looks for the path where our journeys are same
There is no wild flower's smile without meaning on us.

Picking best of Tamil, with which the sun was born
First few drops of snow, that fall in early morn
Loosing nightly sleep by weaving moonlight yarn
I bind a glowing garland, To my lovely Mom!

Of the color borrowed from crawling golden beetle
With the swallow courses down the chin of babies;
And the virgin honey at the humming bird's pastry
I bind a glowing garland, To my lovely Mom!

The dawn shiny rays that reflects silver on lake
Of the light that fills the morning pinky lotus
And, wild bamboo tunes collected in blooming buds
with which I bind a garland, To my lovely Mom!

Of the sandal fragrance and the southern wind's coldness,
The lullaby of black beetle, On the evening lovely garden
And, Of the tunes of the stream where the yellow sky falls
with which I bind the garland, To my lovely Mom!

The magic trails of rainbow, the moon fails to touch though
And, while I try to grab, I got the butterflie's wings
And, by few dews of rain kissing garden purble flowers
With which I bind the best, To my lovely Mom!

By the noisy drops of sounds on foamful tides of shore
Of few drops of calm that last in peaceful mids of sea
And some of stars floating over the sky as well the waves
with which I bind the best, To my lovely Mom!

Of all the best of bests, all over I could see,
Of all the best of bests, all over I could get,
I offered a lovely garland to my lovely Mom
She did accept with a smile, Just a simple smile
Oh my God, That's only the ever best!

My image inside the mirror
Smiles at me
Plastic flowers by the table
Blossom with little longer patals
The window still closed
But the poem papers precipitate
And, Pair the fishes of tank
Dives with a sound 'thluk'
Creeper palnt looses the hold
And shakes his tail gently
A melody not palyed yet
Leaks from the lonly flute
It's now the curtain moves
The moon's eyes heap on me

Yeah,
You have come on my mind!