Ebbs of Journey

It drifts in like a murmuring mist, 

veiling the landscape of the heart.

It lingers in the quiet corners, 

a shadow cast by fume's departure.

In the stillness, tears trace

the contours of loss, 

each one, a witness to memories 

refuses to fade.

Within this ache, 

a seed of resilience lies dormant, 

awaiting the gentle touch 

of time that heals a wringed hand.

Through the fog of delusion, 

glimmers of hope emerge, 

guiding us towards 

the dawn of a new beginning

embracing wonted whispers.

We honor the depth of our 

holding breaths melting into 

the live sizzling hearth.

It finds the strength to journey ahead.

            By M K Mishra

Life Unscripted

 Life does not ask for permission—

it bursts forth, wild and unrefined,

like weeds through cracked concrete.

It doesn’t wait for clarity,

but moves—forward & backward,

sometimes in spirals.

There are no lines to color within,

no script to follow,

just the raw rhythm of breath,

the echo of a heartbeat.

Life is the wind that carries

both whispers and storms,

the sea that gives and takes

without reason or remorse.

It is the space between moments,

the silence that hums with possibility,

the falling, the rising,

the living but beyond sparks.

M K Mishra

The Cardinal Space

 There is a silence now,

not the kind that soothes,

but the kind that echoes—

a hollow, endless stretch

between the world once framed.

I sense the lost shape of your absence

in the air where you once stood,

fingers reaching for shadows

that dissolve into nothing.

The clock ticks even louder in the hollow,

its rhythm mocking the stillness,

counting moments now arid.

The absence of stately smile does

Chase the journey to oblivion.

The jubilant laughter once was the sun,

warming every corner of this life.

Now, the cold creeps in,

soft but relentless,

a quiet defalctor in the night.

The journey of life appears two shores,

divided by an ocean of time,

the tide drifting you farther,

and this cascade is left to wander

Till the breath melts into infinite.

By Manoj Kumar Mishra

O Silver and Silent Soul of the Night

O silver and silent soul of the night,

You drape the world in soft, pale light.

An ardent mate, calm and wise,

Reflecting dreams across the skies.

You whisper tales to the panting seas,

Guiding their tides with gentle ease.

Your glowing face, serene and round,

Holds secrets vast, and unbound.

Through ancient woods and lonely streams,

You cradle the earth in mystic beams.

A muse to poets, a radiant star

The heart of night, giggling afar.

 We know not why you dance, wax and wane,

Yet your presence remains, a soothing refrain.

O moon, your celestial art,

Brightens the heavens, and warms the heart.

By Manoj Kumar Mishra