Lesson of detachment

It detached itself from the huge bo tree
And floated with the joy of detachment
The mild wind respectfully following the leaf
Accompanied it down to rest on the white sand.

The leaf resting just before my eyes
Under the tree where I was on meditation
I felt that the leaf was smiling at me so calmly
I looked on with respect until it spoke..

I took with respect the leaf to my hand
The green of the leaf was no more and gone
A bright yellow with black spots was
the colour
"I came down happy it was time to detach"

I was prompted to look at the bo tree
As if I had not seen it before.
I heard the tree whispering in my ears
"millions of leaves..come and fall..
to come and go is a part of nature
stay undetected...and not sad when you go.."

I raised my hands in honour of the message
The silver hair on my hands glittered to the
sunshine
The sacred bo leaf was held yet in my hands
Tears of bliss dropped on white sand...

Nimal Sedera

An ode to a soldier

Soldier, Soldier
What does life
Hold for you
No face
No name
Only a man
with a gun

Peace, Peace
A chant rings
In your ear
Before your eyes
Fire balls of hatred
A journey of
No return

Softly, Softly
You advance
Stealthily in the night
Hugging your gun
Tightly to your heart
A talisman to brave
An untimely death

Soldier, Soldier
What does life
Hold for you
No face
No name
Only a life
Hanging on a thread

Soldier, Soldier
What can we do
But only pray
Your merits
To carry you
Through Samsara's
End.

Kusum Rajapakse

Memories

A dog walked down the street
A man had his strap well grasped in his hand
A tall order to justify her taste
The organdy dress was not within his reach
He searched his mind to improve his needs
The dog was his and not for sale
The girl was his and not to be changed
To a park bench he made a dart
And sat on it with a heavy heart
The dog sat by him with a cheerful bark
His master was with him that is all he asked
The dog's needs were simple and few
Reggie realised this with a smile and a wink
He would chastise her for her greed
The very next day Beatrice was phoned
She mellowed why Reggie was hers
The organdy dress was thrown to the wind
The couple is now newly wed
A muslin gown the wedding dress
Roberto the doggie a special place
In their hearts THE wedding ring.

Nalin Jayatilake

Crime and violence

Violence in various forms
Has visited the North,
The East, the West and the South
Bringing sorrow, tears and misery
Even to our beloved one and only.
Dastardly violence has wrought
Death, disability and destruction
To the young and the old.
The victims of crude violence
Suffer in agonizing silence.
Sans their dearest kith and kin
Their life is indeed dim.
Many a breadwinner lost lives
Leaving forlorn their beloved wives.
Young mothers are widowed
When husbands are brutally butchered.
Children deprived the joys of life
Owing to meaningless quarrel and strife.
Many a mother shed copious tears
As the sons die in the battle fierce.
Everywhere there's jealousy and enmity.
Violence takes a firm hold in our society.
The credo is avenged, revenge and murder
Without distinction of race or gender.
Blue murder Chicago style daily occurrence
For religious ethics there's no tolerance.
Life goes on amidst violence and suspense
The villains do not care a tuppence.
Crime in the country on the upward trend
Heading for a record in the year's end.

M. Azhar Dawood

Sunshine in memories

My heart was broken
like a vase
made out of glass.
With hard toil and
tiring myself away..
I picked up the tiny pieces..
put them together..
glued and repaired.
You touched that vase
one and only flower bloomed...
Please...oh, please,
be careful,
Don't let it fall...
it may break again.

Priyadarshinie Madawala

Death of a pigeon

Sound followed a minute of silence
Then a ball of fire
Earth went up and sky plunged down
Not a time even for fear

Bulb of smoke in bright sun light
Blackened the passing air
Arrows of metals flown in weight
No one let be spear

Cold souls on hot asphalt
Cross the bridge at this hour
Heroes and villains mixed in flesh
Seek the means of power

Years of calling for smiles disappear
Only tears see the ways togather
A white pigeon of a broken heart
Fell with scattering feather(s)

Sriya Kumarasinghe

Sacred and Eternal Love

She sustained us for nine months
with pain and hope
She never gave us a chance to suffer
Even we do not look after her
She loves us forever
That is the feature of maternal love

He guided us to victory
with courage and dedication
Sometimes he may not show sympathy and kindness
But he has inside, a bundle of love
for us....
That is the feature of paternal love

We can be neglected,
We can be abused,
We can be dismissed,

By Society...
But we're never dismissed or neglected
by our beloved parents....

Tharindu Weerasinghe

To Rev Mother Agnes

As a five-year old
I was suckled by the convent
be-spectacled sweet Mother Agnes taught me
to sing and play the Pied Piper;
the mice were the frolicsome kids
who followed me and rolled themselves
to be drowned under the mango tree,
where now stands a nunnery,
I remember the girl who annoyed me
then in the class and outside.

When I met her some months ago
at an orchid show. She has overgrown
with desire.
The glint in her eye was still there
She whispered "you are Mother Agnes' boy"
the faint blue eyes over laden with
compassion were before mine.
She stroked my head and spake softly
"Don't be naughty, my boy -
"Dominus vobiscum."

Sic Itur Ad Astra,

Old Crusader.

The trishaw

I'm a lonely trishaw made for humble folk,
To ply about as rich men do and get about their work.
I wend my way with twists and turns,
Among the crawling traffic,
The driver's smart and he makes me dart,
In and out like magic.
He dare not look to left or right,
Or strain to look behind
For many an engaged chauffeur,
Shall have an axe to grind.
Not all of them take risks with me,
Some love me like risks with me,
Some love me like their own,
They coax and guide me gently,
Knowing the burdens I have borne,
And when it's time for him to slumber,
He parks me where I'm safe,
With all his fares well numbered,
But I remain awake.

George Eddie

Forbidden

One look sideways, and I see women,
Passing by the sides of the road,
along with their bags or baskets,
clutched in their hands.....
Heads turned towards many directions.
Meeting other women,
Speaking of happenings, taking to gossip,
And some - just telling lies and lies....
Not minding the schorching sun,
Brightened against the blue sky,
They tread to and fro before halting
In search of a better story to hear.
Quite idling to get back home,
Quite not ready to start their day's next chore...
But I have to,
and I go, get back to my duty
of cleaning the streets and pavements,
For them to safely walk on...

Ishani Dilhara Goonasekara

A candle grieves

Absolute darkness irritates
As no sense of feeling of any form prevail
The eyes become blind to surroundings
With expectancy to receive vision
At any given moment when light comes
Arms are extended feeling around
Trying to find any object or form
In a closed fist a candle is clutched
In the dark feeling its wick
Fire is lighted the candle is lit
Gradually darkness is dispelled
Varied forms and shadows flicker around
The candle with greave burn
In refuse wax and diminishing fats
With the waft of air brings fragrance
The flame flicker in disturbed light
Throwing many shadows around
As the greave burn it's saddening
Now many eyes can see many forms
Their colours comprehensive to light
Many an object now could be felt
As candle light illumines many things
It will burn throughout all time
Until the candle grave melts

While nature puts out its flame

Miran Perera