It’s a tree talking. Lamenting the cutting of forests. Its a take on our politicians who are responsible for destroying the forests yet stand under umbrellas and plant saplings to celebrate vanamahotsav.वनमहोत्सवहांव ह्या वनांत तग मारुन आसा
I wonder if the trees knew you were coming for themThey have seen people like you beforeThey have outlived people like you beforeDid you stand under their shade while you made your plans?Did you dare to call it an execution?You can only se
I Sing a Song of Goa :Of the first liquid purl of birdsong that pullsUp the kingfisher day like a fishing line looping into water;Of the fist of the sun at noon and the cracking of the parched earth;Of the brawling of buffaloes, breasting
I want a poem like thick tropical rainDense green spatter of syllablesDrumbeat consonants, fertile with meaning.Sudden. Short. Unforgettable.Afterwards, jungle silence.I want a poem like a Russian circusYou should know it has been trained
the small tree frogfor no reasonthat I can possibly know ofjumps from m to minside this poemhow it got here i don't know…must have left a window openwhy m i don't know…are they easier for frogs to rest on?but here it is, looking like a
“Remember” by Joy Harjo as read by Sujata NoronhaRemember the sky that you were born under,know each of the star’s stories.Remember the moon, know who she is.Remember the sun’s birth at dawn, that is thestrongest point of time. Remember su