Standing at the door, I take snap of the moon

I have no plan, no intention of locating the moon’s path,

It is full moon, like one big scene of surpassing white image,

With the wind, no glass window can catch the essence,

So I perhaps take the vision, and then move into house,

Wherein we are exactly pressed with time, target and passion.

I wonder what I capture in my camera; it is word of elegance,

It happens to be the sky, holding the bright significance all the time.




I wake up in the morning,

And find one way open to me.
This white flower leads the way
The single blooming persuades me.

I want to travel in the garden
Stars in the last night make me puzzled
Ways are many, choosing right one is
Tricky, perpetually to remain tied with.

And in the whiteness of permeability,
I find presentation of this flower’s
Splendid sight that moves me to talk
And walk on the way of simplicity.

Note: Photo taken from garden of late Himanshu Bhowmik