long journey he promises two raindrops

my first hijab...
a shadow 
on the flower 

Red Moon Anthology 2017

crack of dawn...
the moon slides off
a fish's fin

shades of dusk...
the darkening orange
of birdsong

dragonfly wings...
just enough space
for a cloud

origami —
a mountain folds
into itself

whale song
sometimes
I don't know
who is behind
this facade 

war . . .
homes become
houses

 Grand Prize winning haiku in the 24th International "Kusamakura" Haiku Competition.

trudging
through speckled stones...
the fog rises
with sounds
of a morning raga

every time
she puts on
lipstick
a hibiscus flirts
with the mirror

incessant rain
dawn snuggles
into a raven's wings

don't slouch
mother always yells
when I see her
my back straightens
as if on remote control

 
to become
that shiny raindrop
a long journey
as I sit polishing
each thought into a poem

wild bamboo
the pencilled darkness
shimmers in rain

meditation . . .
my self in the stillness   
between thoughts

our city stands
on liquid shadows —
cyclonic floods

in a ward . . .
the stark whiteness  
of the moon

low tide
the silence of a wave 
wets my mind

Kala Ramesh is an award winning poet. Her work covering haiku, tanka, senryu, haibun and renku has appeared in leading e-zines and anthologies.

the cliff of my will power before the drop

that cloud-capped moon ruins my evening alone

from source a pain swelling river runs amok

I browse
through the songs she wrote—
the words
she found after long searching
keep me awake for hours

as I age
I find myself talking
more and more
to trees and blossoms -
I'm sure they're listening to me

I walk
across a shallow river
that split-second glint
as the water
caresses a pebble

durga puja...
she dusts the years off
her wedding saree

June sun
umbrella spines
turn smokey

mother's kitchen...
the lingering fragrance
of mango pickle

obituary–
the raven's caws
fill our silences

tombstone...
clearing fallen leaves
to reveal her name

autumn night...
which of these stars
is grandma?

physics exam...
cursing the apple
that fell on Newton

temple offering...
a boy lets loose
one of the goats

doodling my boss
on the notepad...
office meeting

coffee break—
stirring a whirlpool
of thoughts

cheese thief...
a purring shadow sneaks
into my kitchen

jack fruit jam...
a fly beats me
to the jar

lonely night...
she let the waves
kiss her bare feet

quarantine
she plays peekaboo
with the moon

falling flowers...
my patio
has a new colour

a snake waits
at the 99th step
of each game –
another tumour
in her last chemo

every time
he touches my bare back...
a water drop
                     sizzles
on the frying pan

summer noon. . .
the wavering shadow
of a palm

first chemo. . .
even the tulips
begin to droop

lockdown. . .
the shape of a curse
behind his mask

reflections
of green in the stream …
a world in itself

a deserted road
stretches into the horizon -
I keep walking

sunrise —
the leaves shimmer
in their newness

hot samosas …
the rain brings
strangers together

eyes open
to a sunlit spider’s web-
dream catcher