Motif

reside I in the intricate motifs of your palm

 invisible which are to naked eyes

sometimes present in the fragrance of  henna

often amidst the maze of  lines.

my presence thus confined to

intrinsic charm of your hands

and I dwell as the imperceptible

touch of fate

as destined, I am.

Jubilation

beside the singing brook ,

I sat overwhelmed,

the song reminded of

those  lovely days...

a swaying leaf danced to 

its tunes

with the harp played

by the wind and rain!

 crimson my heart

embraced queen earth

in the falling drops

I discovered the  jubilation!