Hard skulls, and our brains within

A maze of grey and diffuse thought. 

Pondering on the universe

On how energy and matter were wrought.

Timelessness, chaos, the great darkness,

Nothingness, so whence came the Energy

That created spacetime, and these vivid worlds—

All that we now see?

Our ancients postlulated the Purusha, Primal cause Of all

Who projected a fourth of Him-Her- It-self out in play

Sacrificing, splitting Singularity

Into a vast Cosmic array.

But humans magnify all difference–

 Find no congruence

Between —

Male and female,

Body and soul,

Matter and energy,

Which make up the whole

Of existence.

Distaste for certain facets of the whole

Humanity can ill afford

So sages depicted Purusha as Ardhanarishwar

In the temple at Tiruchengode

The right half of this magnificent figure

Is masculine,

The left is feminine;

And both together coalesce

To point up the divine

Within every one of us.

Are not all sciences intertwined, too,

Each dependent on the other

As are the races that share the earth

Evolving, progressing, together?


Humble hero..tree! (Davidian poem)

Humble Hero 

Creating the very life breath of earth

Shelter for insects, animals and birds

Some durable, some fragrant, of great worth,

Silently inspiring high thoughts and words.

Humble hero is the tree.

Rooted in natal land, content to stand,

No wanderlust disturbs its peace of mind,

Reaching up to clouds or starry dream land,

To earthly affairs yet, attuned, aligned, 

Humble hero is the tree. 

Without trees the world would indeed be bare

A barren desert, sandy, empty, place

Without the cool life giving rain and air,

That graceful trees offer the human race.

Humble hero is the tree. 

Rainforests disappear before our eyes

The world is getting hotter by the day Let’s each plant a tree to be truly wise

And reverse climate change without delay.

Humble hero is the tree. 


The Unknowable Ether
I stretch the tendrils of my mind
Into the far reaches of space
But my senses are foreshortened
By the limits imposed on my race.
We humans are ill equipped to know
The majesty of the background glow
Of the Creation that houses all.
So, in my conscious stream
I can only dream…
Of my little solar system
My corner of this galaxy.
And in my dream of the ether
This is what I see..
The sun swings
Her planets around
Like a child her playthings
Her hula hoops or balloons
Or her yo-yos on strings.
I, as a human, a child, built
A castle that I called mine
Beside the tides of space
On the shoreline of time.
The moon danced in the sky
Pushing and pulling at the sea,
And wiping out all trace
Of human frailty.

Bougainvillea and starlight

Now, this is one of those peculiar facts
The pink petals are actually leaves called ‘bracts’
The flowers hide inside, hold nectar, but soon die,
While the pink bracts continue to attract moth and butterfly.

Across a spectrum of wavelengths
The stars converse at night.
On the ground, a glowworm’s message
Is a faint flicker of light.
Although nature has gifted us speech,
It is in silence we best witness
The beauty of nature, the value of love,
And so I feel triply blessed.



It may be tan or black or green or creamy,
( I’ve even seen blue tea made from the butterfly pea!)
This universally accepted drink
Should make us pause and think…
Hot water poured on tea releases its flavonoids,
Without crises, do we humans remain humanoids?

Snake haikus

A snake in the grass..
Without wings, or legs, or fins,
Where else would I be??

Like your upraised arm
My scaly snake’s head is raised
Why are you afraid?

Grass stalks gently sway
On a windless summer’s day
A snake is at play.

Legless, you may glide,
But with lidless, open eyes,
Snake, how do you sleep?

Childish dreams?

dreamt once of leading an elephant herd
Sitting on the neck of the tallest
I wanted to live far away from school
In the middle of a forest.
Later, I wanted to pilot a rocket to the moon
But short sight caught me up much too soon!
I wanted to be a librarian when I was eleven
Being surrounded by books was my idea of heaven
Also loved gardening, the flowers’ fragrance.)
In high school my thoughts turned to sports and romance, of course,
Read Mills and Boon between Asimov, and Wodehouse
Loved cycling and made the throwball team
But was quite short, so gave up my basketball dream.
I thought that an MA in litt would be nice
But peer pressure forced me to major in science
Loved teaching, did a BEd, then my allergies
Led me to a desk and a service industry.
Now I play with words– second childhood?
I create dream-worlds, and that feels really good!



Stardust is the stuff
Of which we’re all made
What is the nature of stardust
What is its colour and shade?

The incandescent beauty
Of the diamond-dusted star
Is what all life is made of
It’s what we all are.

Eons ago all matter was formed
In the cores of giant stars
And now we specks of Stardust
Fight our petty wars.

Why do we create differences
Why do we feel we must
Fight each other, when we’re all
Made of the same Stardust?


Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Someday, for sure, I shall need this guide
For the galaxy is a hundred thousand light years wide.
I shall evolve using bio engineering and AI
To take my rightful place in the sky.

Oh, wait,  the sky is an illusion, but not me
I am a solid carbon-based entity.
But that is exactly the reason, you see,
That I am unable to cross the galaxy.

My brain can possibly expand, grow,
For I use only 5 percent of it now.
But can I myself handle the reality
Of starfields stretching to infinity?

My mind is frightened of what lies beyond
The reach of my science, the grasp of my hand.
Perhaps all our minds need to meet and merge
And then a new human wave can surge
Outward into space.


It’ll all blow over, don’t worry, some said
But the hospitals were full, there was nary a bed
And the TV showed sidewalks with hearses, and the dead
Waiting to be buried.
Communities had barricaded themselves in
All deliveries were dropped off to be collected later
All stores shut down and their owners fled
To the countryside where it was said
The virus couldn’t survive.
With its hundred apartments, our own community,
Locked the two sets of gates, which we’d never seen done.
People worked from home, all felt dark and dun
Till, slowly, slowly, the children came down
Masked and washing their hands very often
They went into the yard, tried to have fun.
But out on the street, a little girl spied
A skeleton-like form– a dog that’d almost died.
Were his owners too sick, or had they fled
Forgetting him, abandoning him in their fear or dread
Of the virus?
All the children who saw his feebly wagging tail
As he leaned on the sidewalk’s rusty red rail
Determined that this little dog wouldn’t die
And they thought long and hard.
They begged their parents to order in dog-food
For the dog who’d barely outgrown his puppy hood.
And they promised to make up the money
By delivering all the goods that’d been left at the gate.
The residents were happy to pay a little more
To have their essentials delivered at the door.
The children used the cash to feed the poor strays
For there were four dogs nearby in the same case.
The dogs were adopted after the curbs eased
But my admiration for the kids’ empathy never ceased.