I made a child chuckle the other day with my silly joke.

The old man who couldn't see, I helped him find his glasses.

I watered a plant back to life.

The smallest things,

Are they really small when they bring me so much joy?

I traveled the globe only to come back to you
to regale you with stories from the other side of the sea.
you would be amazed to hear how similar they are to you and me.
they share the same moon, countryside and even look up to the same sky.

let me tell you stories of the people that I met, their food, sweetly fragrant, still lingering in the air.
their God is different though, not like ours. What is surprising is they ask for the same things while praying, just like us.
I found the same beauty there wherever I went, the similar intangible, etherealness in them.
they also say the outer glaze doesn't matter. Just like us, they look for the inner essence.

they may be on the other side, but they are just like us,
the smallness of a dividing line only keeps us apart.
the disparity is fiction. The contrariness only on paper.
I have seen the other side. And let me tell you, just like us, they share the same sky.

Skin like alluvial soil:

I remember her vividly,
She was different than the rest.
Her skin like the alluvial soil
glistened in the sun.
Compassionate, kind
Fiery and wild,
She would look at me as if to stare into my soul. She knew I had more inside.

I remember her fondly.
Her skin the color of the earth.
She knew me more than I ever could,
A beauty, unexplained, almost tangible.

And now, she is gone and I am no longer the same.
She left me abruptly.
Pining for her every breath.

Cut open and see my heart.
It is bruised.
Somewhere deeper, in the veins, you will find a tiny, lingering shred of your memory. Intact.
I keep it hidden. Alongwith my other secrets.