ACROBATIC SWIRL OF DRY LEAF

Here the river loses the pride, ego,
self-deception, gradually mixes
into the sea, goes silently
beneath the massive
waves, accepts
the rendition,
the sky
looks, surprisingly, her inclination !
on the way stony wharf, fixed
vessel, the tree ficus
religiosa, offering
flowers, floating
lamp on the
plantain
stem,
all receded far away as the soul -
left the corporal planet, when
autumn knocked on the door
of nature nobody has
the crypto – lane,
the desires
become
on that
moment of the pale, stale, dry leaves
falling down the surface in
acrobatic way, blues
laughs loudly, the
wind has no
certain
destination, who knows where to
continue the travel of life,
the floating on the
wind, looks too
beautiful,
river now into the dense chest of
ocean, forgetting gradually
the address of origin,
now her identity
has different
look, it's
destiny !

--- SHANTANU SANYAL 
http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/

© It's subject to copyright. 

SOMETIMES IT'S HAPPENED - -

Do not force me again, to fall in the -

traps of blind chasm, with a 

great difficulty, life has 

recouped just now,

a blue beam 

of your 

eyes goes through the frail emotion, 

a covert stream flows in the inner 

valley of sentiment, a wish 

to touch you, a desire

to feel you, inner 

the chest, 

often 

brings the persona, on the trail of - 

unusual mystery, I'm afraid,

somewhere an unseen 

conspiracy of 

fortune, 

inviting the uncalled storm ! neither 

clouds nor the crash of 

thunder, I do not 

know, then 

why -

before the night, the heart vibrates 

with strange perception - - 

* * 

- SHANTANU SANYAL
 http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/

Ioan Popei Angel Painting 

NOTHING ABNORMAL - -

It's meaningless to wait for midnight,
the misty evening has befallen
long ago, now it's time to
be lost in path of
nomadic
dreams, vagrancy of life says, every
flamboyant bloom hasn't the
ambrosial feeling, just
like a broken
promise
which never keeps the scent of love,
again I'm returning toward the
adust desert, again I've
to learn the art of
living in the
thorns,
well done my friend, at least life has
knew, the difference amid the
real and paper flower - -

* *
- - SHANTANU SANYAL
http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/
camellia art

THE CREATION OF MIRROR

When the heart is illuminated, the body 
doesn't demand more pleasure, 
it becomes gradually the 
anchorite, denial of 
outer beauties,
peculiar 
self 
identity emerges with hundreds 
petals of rare lotus, life 
searches your love 
somewhere into
the whorl of 
spiny 
bloom, the crystalline teardrops
of self-immolation existed,
in the umbilicus of 
cognition, the 
real 
reflection of character becomes
clear here, soul meets to 
absolute soul in a 
way that mirror 
becomes 
the life, 

- -  SHANTANU SANYAL 

THE QUIESCENT MOMENT - -

Where the life stops for anyone, - 

everything is the matter 

of moment, where 

I'm today, there

tomorrow

will be

someone, respectively, replenish

the spaces, that turning point 

had its own compulsion,

though the mile 

stone has

looked

with hydrous eye, however the - - 

eternal emptiness has 

the short life, time 

maybe fill the

cavity of 

wound, but the feeling of pain will

not get the salvation, it'll

chase throughout 

the ages,

season has its own priority list - - 

I do not know, where is 

that tear droplet 

which fell 

down 

silently on the skeleton leaf - - - - - 

* * 

- SHANTANU SANYAL 

http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/
Painting by M Diane Bonaparte 

I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING - -

Neither on the earth nor in the sky,

not near the mysterious 

horizon, but it's

certain,

somewhere, you've exchanged -

the emotion with long sigh, 

changed the life 

silently !

I don't remember where and how,

the dream became true, 

in the desert 

evening 

as clouds emerged and scattered

randomly, neither you've

thought nor the 

waves of 

my heart, predicted the untimely - - 

rain, it had to be, it has 

happened - - 

* * 

- SHANTANU SANYAL  

 

DO NOT CALL ME - -

Go back you all the shadow of the earth,
from here, the solitary journey
begins, expressionless
the familiar faces,
the stranger
look
of moonlit arcade, unknown silvan -
bloom and too long the trail
of transmigration, do
not call me with
nickname,
now no
longer possible to return, do not wait
for me, just lit a candle on the
path of darkness, where
I've been left over
the earthly
love,
a dream to become the infinite scent,
* *
- SHANTANU SANYAL  

THE BEAUTY OF TRUTH - -

The trail of emotion goes in its
mysterious way, it's too
hard to understand
the self-image,
sometimes
the inner
mirror refuses for reflections - -
and we found ourselves
very lonely, indeed
many times,
when
the aspires revolute against the
life, the sudden increase of
complaints makes us
apathetic from
survival
and
we wander on the fogy path of
cryptic desire ! But morning
has its own true beauty,
and often we've to
return on the
land of
reality - - the land of reflection !
* *
- SHANTANU SANYAL

PRE - DECIDED - -

          
                    Everything has its own judgment - -

day, but at some point, doesn't
control by anyone and
that's the reason we
follow the
path
of invisible entity, indeed whenever
life faces an attack of undesired
elements, we run behind the
mysterious shadows,
and from
there,
the labyrinth path begins towards -
the blind well, actually we do
not recognize the account
of the deeds, and
becomes the
prey of
mirage, just an endless race, but -
nowhere is the address of
destination, only the
disorientation,
and the
extensive emptiness of the desert
steppe!

* *
— SHANTANU SANYAL

ON THE TIP OF SWORD - -

After every night, the morning is definite,
do not look at me with perplexity,
I already told you, in past
days, I'll again
emerge
from
the depth of dense darkness, promise
or challenge, whatever was,
but I've handled myself, the
the shaded part of life
gradually now
becoming
grey,
maybe, you've to recalculate my value
in your eyes, defeat and victory
are the phase of life, the
game of tail and
head remains
in the
bounce of destiny, like shore shifting
river of the delta, your attitude will
create a vast jejune in
your heart, you're
still immature
in love,
before falling into the abysmal depth of
ocean, try to convert yourself first,
as a struggling wild stream,
it's not so easy to
devote the
life - -
on the ablaze altar of true love - - - - - -

* *
- SHANTANU SANYAL