Days depart and the sun sets.
Seasons change like new encounters.
To pluck a sequence,
Or an interlude:
To refine the stratum of my thought…
From ground to sky what I see,
Though well-known,
Comes as a born wish in front of me –
Everyday!

 

Glistening up there on the twenty-eighth floor,
The big wide glass windows
Of our pent-house
Never fail to show me
Scenes that can never grow old.
With wonders of contrast,
At all times, the view excels,
And beneath or beyond horizon’s turf,
The images sprout from the source.

 

Relying upon nature’s command,
Most dawns and eventide return with gold.
And though we are away from the beach,
The sea is visible with a settling word:
Modest and soft at one time,
Then smashing all around in rage.
Now, in the sheer velvet night,
As the city shines like stars,
The moody moon is drifting away.

 

Collecting rhymes and floating:
Down, Down, Down,
From the twenty-eighth floor,
My eyes walk on the serpentine streets,
Each worth looking at.
Never be in doubt,
Even towards night’s ending approach,
Cars will pursue cars,
Drawing their glittering lights in a train.

 

Dubai
31st July 2010

                          

Geeta Chhabra

 

From the book: An Indian Ode To The Emirates by Geeta Chhabra