Home | Hindi | Kabir | Poetry | Workshop | BoloKids | Writers | Contribute | Search | Contact                      Shop Online

Poetry New | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z             Submit a Poem

Editor's Choice of the Week | Poetry Knowledge Zone | Poet of the Week | Themes | Articles /Interviews

Channels
In Focus

Analysis  
Bolography  
Cartoons
Environment   
Opinion 

Columns
 My Word 
 PlainSpeak 
 Random Thoughts 
Our Heritage

Architecture
Astrology
Ayurveda
Buddhism
Cinema 
Culture
Dances 
Festivals
Hinduism
History  
People  
Places 
Sikhism
Spirituality 
Vastu 
Vithika  

Society & Lifestyle

Family Matters 
Health
Parenting
Perspective 
Recipes
Society
Teens 
Women 

Creative Writings

Book Reviews
Ghalib's Corner
Humor
Individuality
Jagoji
Literary Shelf 
Love Letters  
Memoirs
Musings
Ramblings
Stories
Travelogues

Computing
  General Articles
 
CC++ 
  Flash 
  Internet Security 
 
Java 
 
Linux     
  Networking  
Advertisement
 Boloji Prepaid
 International
 Calling Cards

Three Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas
I stayed indoors.
Ate too much
and played the games,
while it was snowing horizontally
in the storm from northern seas.

On the second day,
shining curtains,
sunshine on icicles!
I made fresh tracks.
Past the forest.
where we cut the Christmas tree.
Across the marsh.
Up steep hills.
A grouse quickly parted
from its hiding place
behind the rock
next to the frozen creek.

On the third day
I climbed the final steps
into a white world
with a jagged edge.
Down again I glided.
Faster than the wind
towards the center of the plateau.


A raven cried.
The sun had gone
Then I heard the silence.

From peak to peak
Above this crest of snow and ice
covering a heart of fire,
the rising moon began to dance
to a long forgotten lore.

I heard a welcome whispered in my ear:

‘Because you came alone,
expecting nothing,
we let you enter this room. ‘

‘It has no roof, no walls, no floor.
Do you remember?
You have been here before.’

The challenge of the slopes,
a hot supper and a bed.
Was no longer a reward.

Still I could not stay.
I slowly turned
and walked away.

Al Larus
March 17, 2002

Top 
 
 

 

 
Analysis | Architecture | Astrology | Ayurveda | Book Reviews | Buddhism | Cartoons | Cinema | Computing | Culture | Dances
Environment | Fables | Family Matters | Festivals | Hinduism | Health | History | Home Remedies | Humor | Individuality | Jagoji
Literary Shelf | Memoirs | Musings | Opinion | Parenting | Perspective | Photo Essays | Places | Ramblings
Random Thoughts | Recipes | Sikhism | Society | Spirituality | Stories | Teens | Travelogues | Vastu | Vithika | Women

Home | Bolography | BoloKids | Hindi | Kabir | Poetry | Quotes | Workshop | Writers | Contribute | Search | Contact


Boloji.com is owned and managed by Boloji Media Inc
Privacy Policy | Disclaimer
No part of this Internet site may be reproduced without prior written permission of the copyright holder.