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THE FEATHER : SONNET 171

                     The Feather                                    Sonnet 171 Life is a feather, light enough for drifts -- Fast when the wind is fast, and slow when slow The wind does move; yet other times, it lifts Life to a high, then pressing 'gain to a low. Thus the waves of life with their each wavelength Adjust to whimsies of the changing weather, Too humble to withstand the weather's strength. When windless does the weather go, the feather Does lose its existence beneath the surface  Of fragility, as the flights of glee Or gloom, prolonged or short, in the embrace Of Time do get absorb'd no fuss, completely, Bidding the Earth a meek but scornful goodbye. What else does life to sapiens signify? ©️ N P Samal 
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THE RETURN : SONNET 170

                     The Return                                   Sonnet 170 Infants do crawl and toddle about their home,  Happy with unobstructed play with toys, But they at last return to mom's bosom, For they do find in there unblemish'd joys. They later romp as children out in streams And meads, but home where they return for flowering, And youths in career do they rest their dreams, Back from willfulness and crazy wandering, Then consign them, as adults, to labor, But thus they return to raise their children, And lastly there's the nursing shed to harbor Before the old on them does pull the curtain. Whoever we may be, we will return; This's certain, this is fast once we are born. ©️  N P Samal 

MAHISHASURA : SONNET 169

                             Mahishasura                        Sonnet 169 When young, one year, I saw the Demon dying, As the Trident of the goddess Durga Into his stoney body deeply piercing: An art the 'medha' play'd on Dussehra Though, my tiny heart was cheery with Loads of relief the Devil's at last dead And gone were threats on life! But came the myth Next year, to find; as raised the Brute his head To fight the Goddess and to die again -- The repeat that happens every year, Just for few days to falsely entertain  The people's soul engulfed in inbred fear, For the Brute ain't dead behind the art, In our brutish mind and brutish heart. ©️ N P Samal 

THE ANGER ROOM : SONNET 168

                      The Anger Room                                 Sonnet 168

VISHWAKARMA : SONNET 167

                   Vishwakarma                                   Sonnet 167 He is the builder of the Universe  And therefore Vishwakarma is His name; He has built the Earth, her splendrous neighbours Inside the boundless Architectural Frame. And earthlings worship Him in most devotion For motors, mansions, mills, all mundane builds; But more construction goes with more destruction; To spoilage, wastes, do drain all Lordly yields. If construct does He, whoe'er destroys? Whoever brings forth cyclones, floods and quakes And hands out mortars, missiles, bombs to guys, That down each harbor, home instantly breaks? If Vishwakarma, then there's One to honor  Who will touch not Lord's resources, labor.  ©️ N P Samal  

LIES OF LIFE : SONNET 166

We know not if untruth is our essence,  As we survive on certitudes of Earth; The truth of life that fills our existence Is prone to fatal lies till death from birth. Some force, for sure, reposeless day and night, Does This universe is purely an illusion, Wherein each thing is known now, then unknown.  ©️ N P Samal