Kala Ramesh


rain catchers
near our banyan tree
here and there
leaves of the pond lotus
roll raindrop-moons  

the moon
on its journey . . .
over the cobblestones
I curse my path

during spasms
of loneliness
she gropes . . .
the money plant in its search
sends out aerial roots

having to wear
several masks in life –
if only I could 
drift away between scenes
like a dragonfly

you asked
I gave willingly
each time
I look back
all I see is my giving

by the traffic signal
— a woman —
the myriad expressions
we carry through life

illusions ride
on a fast fading rainbow
I let go of my childhood . . .
I must have

I walk my wounds
toward autumn’s end
nursing a hope
they’ll soon become scars, dry
incapable of oozing



Kala Ramesh comes from an extremely artistic and culturally rich South Indian Tamil family and believes, as her father is fond of saying, that “the soil needs to be fertile for the plant to bloom”. She also feels that she owes this poetic streak in her to her mother. Kala is keen to see children in India take to haiku and its genres.