B S TYAGI

B. S. TYAGI

Though The Azure Sky Is High

(1)

Success looks like a butterfly

Its colorful wings attract all,

But it embraces only those –,

Who give their heart and soul.

(2)

If success is achieved by fluke

It sparkles like a pearl of dew

Until the glorious sun appears

And it’s really praised by few.

(3)

Never aspire for fleeting things

They flit in and out every day –

Cut to the chase then and there

Though glitter, but what the hey!

(4)

Though the azure sky is very high

Millions twinkling stars stretch out

In unending long lines one can see

Get ready and give them a shout.

Hunger

(1)

Hunger can only be defined best

By those who verge on starvation,

And are looking with begging eyes -,

And ask why they lie in deprivation

(2)

Ask those who walk miles away

Cracked bare foot to eke a living -,

Stagger and fall by the way side,

With clawing hunger and longing.

(3)

Ask the children in rags who spend

Their day waiting in the vain hope –,

Of getting a piece of loaf in evening,

Thirsty, famished at length they drop.

(4)

Just ask the wandering chit of a girl

Waiting desperately for merciful one,

May throw a plate of leftovers to her,

But sluggishly return, heeded by none.

(5)

Ask Maharana Pratap- the great warrior

Who couldn’t see hungry children’s plight

When a wild cat took away their grass-roti,

And he got ready to yield to Akbar’s delight.

Covid-19 – A Warning

(1)

Nature sends men warning year after year

To make them realize their foolish actions,

The silent voices they hardly heed or hear,

Nor do they think over her timely reactions.

(2)

Man forgets his helplessness in arrogance

And tries to dominate over Mother Nature,

He’s utterly blinded by personal preference,

Brazenly likes to put her under his signature.

(3)

He blows off rocks and hills with dynamite

Hardly realizes as Mother profusely bleeds,

Undeterred moves taking pride in his might,

And ignores altogether her metabolic needs.

(4)

Sea, land and forest are mindlessly ravaged

And polluted even snow-capped mountains,

He must know it well as Mother is enraged,

She starts tsunami, fires, tremors, and rains.

(5)

Toxic wastes, gases, fumes have choked her

So miserably she lies down in short of breath,

Her selfish children think little to care for her,

Nor are they moved a bit at birds, fish’s death.

(6)

Myriad toxins have infected all her vital parts

In madness man assaults her from every side,

Though she’s love for all in her heart of hearts,

Too much now, sorrows no more she can hide.

(7)

All over her body she bears millions of sores

She’s gone in self-quarantine to heal herself,

As a sentinel Corona-virus demonically roars,

Not to disturb Mother; she heals sores herself.

(8)

I’m her tiniest agent,’ guardian angel says

If man’s madness ends not soon herewith,

Hungry gigantic viruses are ready to graze,

On humans and to deal their madness with

(9)

Mother takes her time to rejuvenate herself

Everyone on earth is surprised into silence,

With little choice man’s to witness all himself,

And bear death and destruction with patience.

(10)

Let us all clean our polluted heart and mind

That’s inflicted bleeding wounds on Mother,

Only then the bountiful Mother we can find,

If not awakened, destruction awaits us hither.

B S TYAGI

B S TYAGI, India, writes in both Hindi and English. He has several books- fiction and non-fiction to his credit. His poems have been included in several anthologies. He writes short stories which regularly appear in national and international literary magazines. His write-ups and poems   appears in literary magazines at home and abroad. Besides, he has translated six books of poems. He shies away from public celebrations and prizes. Inner bliss he is showered upon through creativity is the greatest prize for him.