Sorry friends writing is getting tougher as a result cliques are unable to post anything. But as I was running short of ideas, the cyclone came to rescue me. Yes I repeat Faline cyclone came to rescue me. This poem is about a falling branch and the emotions involved in it grappled me for that night . The falling branch personified!!  

Moma the wind is blowing, see my little ones playing and dancing to the tunes

Hey why aint the grandma letting them dance, let them dingle there aint no fumes

Green they are, fresh they are, Mother its just another afternoon of monsoon

“Oh sweet child of mine, its no afternoon of monsoon it’s a typhoon

  Hold them tightly, hug them tightly, just don’t let them dance to the tunes

  Gush of wind without fumes is not always a tune my child, I see a storm in waiting”

The storm arrives, tunes change their beats, decibels raise,  nearby families break

The tree with its freshest branches start to break, lighting in the sky, rain and the branch start to fall

“Hold on my child, just don’t bend, your mother is too old to bear this weight

  Hold on my child, just don’t bend, your mother is too old too bear this pain”

Moma let me go , I aint go survive this storm , Even if I do they surely aint

Let me go , my dear ones are already kissing the ground , let me do the same

Moma don’t hold on me, I am too young to live with this pain, let me do the same

“Child of yours, the new ones are dear to you, what about the mother of the old

  Love grows with ages my dear one, so do the new ones, just let the time pass

 The creator of the music is testing your love, he who created the storm will create the tunes too

 Tunes will be back, Storms don’t stay, Love will be back, wrath doesn't stay”

Moma don’t worry, surely love grows, so will someone like me

Moma you have others too, Don’t hold on me

Don’t let the burden of all fall on me in heavens, let me have only mine

The last brutal gush of wind, yes she dances, she rocks to the crazy tunes

A final twitch in the wood, the final crack in the wood, the mother lets her child go

There the branch detaches her, just bidding mother the last bye

She is smiling as if heavens are welcoming her; she is smiling as if she is closer to her dear ones

She strikes the ground, the final sound of her body breaking, she surely has passed away

It starts raining, beats turned into tunes, the mother starts rocking the whole family

Every child dances to the tunes, the dance of agony, the dance of pain and vain

Every leaf sheds the raindrops on the ground, their bid adieu to the member

There I was seeing this scene, may be just a branch fell of a tree on a stormy night

Or may be a mother couldn't stop her daughter from dying in vain

Storms or beats, wind or tunes, branches or family, the bark or the mother

The next storm is round the corner, a branch is going to break, a mother is letting her daughter go

                                                                           You decide

Storms or beats?  Wind or tunes? Branches or family? The bark or the mother?