Symphony by Neetu
November 25, 2025 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as love, music, Neetu, symphony, waves
Symphony
all I hear is this song…
carried to my ears upon waves
as they ebb and return
a symphony of love
played on instruments
of the heart—
those harps that pull
me into the ocean
teach me
to ride the waves
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
Haiga by Neetu
October 26, 2025 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as haiga, images, Neetu, poetry
Haiga by Neetu
Some of Neetu’s Books
Stagnant by Neetu
August 26, 2025 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as Fog, Hope, light, Neetu, summer's end
Stagnant
I drop pebbles slowly
watch them fall
in a shallow stream
it runs cloudy
under such a pristine sky—
they ripple
and disappear
from my eye—
but I know
they lie trapped
in murky debris
that rained down
from angry clouds
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
Foreboding by Neetu
July 26, 2025 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as Fog, Hope, light, Neetu, summer's end
Foreboding
she reaches out
touches fog
she had hoped
for the sun
to slip its silky warmth
over her cold skin
withered and splitting
like the bark of a tree
not used to early frost
summer has not yet
run its course, she whispers
as she exhales a misty breath
it is too soon for woodpeckers
in the woods, the air is dense
besides a lone goldfinch
she might be the only witness
to the end
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
In the Flickering by Neetu
June 26, 2025 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as art, Caves, distance, echo of love, light, Neetu
In the Flickering
Walk me through
your cave
show me the petroglyphs
the stories
you have laboriously pecked on the walls
with your hammer stone,
carved in the light of a lantern
where shadows cast gloom.
I want to see. I want to run
my warm hands along
cold rocks to decipher forms
and feel their rugged ridges.
This light is dim. I need a better view.
Hold my hand and place it where
the scenes begin
that you have etched, with squinted eyes
by a flickering lamp.
I trace them lightly,
my fingers grow numb—
in your cave’s icy hollows
there is no echo of love,
even your stories are silent.
Are you still here or am I
alone?
(c) Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
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