The Phantom Delight Hangs No More!


O, bemused mystery of wonder!
You are the silver chain of fancy
And evening mentor of joys high!
And happy boon at noon
Or midnight’s roaring void
And wintery smile in moon?
Or perennial source of ecstasy
Or eternal source of sigh?
Your stately presence baffles me!

Behold! how flower sings
And shining dew drops fall
Past my eyes the young sun beats
Far from earth on heaven’s call!
My life beats like ball of fire
And memories whirl me back
Where profound light lacks
To shape in a gentle form–
A form that truly wrings.

When the warm blood lurked
Into my vessels sputtering and spitting
Like tinted drops from top to bottom,
Life sensed a disjunct frenzy in crowd.

A holy spring sprang into my vision
And blessed gently every fabric of numb soul, hence,
Desert turned into a flamed lamp.
And vanished quickly the illusion elf
Ere I woke up in a blossomed sense!
The phantom delight hangs no more!

You have tolled me back from death to life
And poured forth nectar in my bosom.
Where are you my waking dream?
In the next valley glades?
Ah, you are forlorn!

Heavy heavens lower on me
And chained prisoners chase
This drowsy frame breaks.
How soon fancy fades away
In deep valleys—far, far, away, away!
Hark! This sweet feeble voice…..
Wasn’t it the same murmuring music
Just past, is now no more?

Adieu, adieu you vision!
Adieu, adieu you elf!
You are a fancy of fugitive mirth.
Days and nights are eternal
On limitless horizon and deathless earth.

Your presence lingers in my entangled memory
Like a meaningful moment of past.
And how enchanting were you
Even for a short while!
Oh, the memory of what had been
No more for ever shall be!

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Manoj Kumar Mishra

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Manoj Mishra has been writing in English and Hindi since he was young........the journey still continues. He writes poems, short stories, articles. He is a teacher of English language in a central govt. organisation. He loves appreciating other's creative genius.......लिखना अच्छा लगता है. मन के अंदर उठ रहे तूफ़ानों को "तिनके का सहारा" जैसा. भावों की अभिव्यक्ति को मैं अपना कर्म मानता हूँ. मैं आंग्ल भाषा का शिक्षक हूँ, और बच्चों को अँग्रेज़ी भाषा का सही प्रयोग सीखाना मेरा धर्म. लेकिन कभी-कभी धर्म और कर्म के चक्कर में उलझा हुआ-सा महसुस करता हूँ, "जस क़ुरंग अकुलात" सा. बहरहाल, जीवन क्रम चलता जा रहा है. किसी सकारात्मक बदलाव के इंतज़ार में कभी खुश होकर बच्चों की मानिंद नाचने लगता हूँ, तो कभी मायूस निगाहों से आने वाले कल की दहलीज़ लाँघता हूँ. वक़्त गुजरता जा रहा है. ये कभी रुकता नहीं किसी के लिए. मेरे लिए भी नहीं रुकेगा, मैं जानता हूँ. मैं कोई वख्त का रिश्तेदार थोड़े ही हूँ. बस चलते जाना है इन सब के बीच. और इसीलिए चलते जा रहा हूँ............
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Aloke
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A lovely,intense love-poem with certain poignancy. Good cadence.

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