The Letters That I Planted

I stole a few moments from the day
and planted them –
Those eternal, imperishable moments.
I felt as if they were sacred syllables,
Seed mantras, the perpetual primal sounds.
The letters should be soaked in the infinite Earth,
Enchanted, nursed, and bloomed in her lap
With tenderness to rise above the dust and dirt.

That’s why –
O Sun, you must come;
O Wind, you must sing;
O Earth, Time will go by your orbit;
The River will flow;
The Ocean will gradually evaporate;
Clouds will gather around the rainbow’s arc.

The Earth will voice and sing;
And the young plants will swing.
The letters that I planted yesterday
Will flourish into the trees of poetry.

Born (1952) and raised in tribal reserve of Jhabua, India, Dharm is a Toronto based Author. He writes in Hindi and has seven published books- five collections of satirical essays and two collections of Poetry. He is a columnist for four prestigious journals Chankya Varta, Vishwa gatha, Setu & VishwAa. His works have appeared in prestigious Hindi journals across the world. His poetry in English has been previously published in Poetry Pause, Fresh Voices, Harbinger Asylum, Akshara, Impspired, Piker Press, Scarlet Leaf Review, Dissident Voice, and Setu. He can be reached at and on Facebook: Read other articles by Dharmpal Mahendra, or visit Dharmpal Mahendra's website.