We yearn for simplicity
Yet refuse to see
The bigger picture,
Demand results
Without doing the hard work.

As all the good things are,
Yours to decipher.

What do you do
To fill the silence?
To paint the blank sheet
Of a life awaiting?
I shout, I splatter buckets
Of the choicest colours
And yet there's no vibrancy
When the world is in greyscale.

Myriad colours and patterns flash before my eyes,
A movie of sorts, fireworks,
And I see happy faces and sad
In the mind's eye
While the real one slowly closed
And my world is darkness.

The fun about puzzles
Is seeing an entire mural
Come alive
One piece after another
Connecting ends
And patterns-
That seem not to work
At first glance.
And maybe life is only all that,
A series of universal coincidences.

Why should all poetry
Be a search for meaning
Of life, of love, of pain
And paint each, blushing,
Until you can’t peel away
Those emotions, that
Emotionless and inanimate
Entities bring about.
Look at me,
I write awfully lot about
The sun, the moon, the stars
Those which have never uttered a single word,
Let alone shine on us
Individually,
And magically
I manage to belong.
We breathe in life
Into every word we pen down
And so did they-
In this poem of sorts.
When we look up
Into an unending darkness,
We still see
The same moon,
Don’t we?

How does a person
Go from knowing
The smallest of details about you
From knowing all your tells
All that causes you pain,
And know the right thing to say
To make you smile
Even with tears running down your face-
To complete strangers?

Now we just look away
When we hear our footsteps-
So intimate,
To know exactly how
Their feet fall onto the ground,
But can’t bring ourselves
To meet each other’s eyes?

How do you pinpoint the time
When you started looking over your shoulder
Checking if your brother in arms
Holds a hidden knife?
Or were you too far front,
To hear the tell-tale hiss
Of slithering serpents over your shadow?

I still can’t tell you
When we drifted apart;
Two balloons soaring together,
Only one to burst,
Hit midway by a sharp stone.
How do you feel,
Letting me go?

Do you remember my essence still?
Or is it just me,
Yearning
To catch vapour
With bare hands?