Category: poetry

patience is a bliss
too much, and inertia takes over
too little, causes rupture
practice makes it elastic
but is continuous adjustment not a key
to a destiny of an amoeba

when the shadows became longer
the lights feeble
i wasnot sure
if the time for closing eyeys and rest was at hand
but then lightening in the sky
woke me up
and the silly smell of withering leaves
reminded me how dreams falter
how some simmerings of wasted years aletr
the path ahead

wait, if you can
before it rains
wiping all the marks of warm breath
on the glass of your window
wait;
but does it matter

after all, the patient pulverised plot
of your garden
has been waiting for so long
for the seeds to grow
which we had gathered
from the slopes of the mountains
that are witness to the prayers
still in the air
mediation is on
be there, if you can, just be there

Colours don’t matter
Nor do the forms
It is the synchronicity
That will prove
What is, will be