There's a glitter in my eyes
When I've caught a kind of sleep,
A star who's come to earth to rise
Each morning from the deep.

And for a celestial second
I won't groan or creak
Old ship will slip through water beckoned;
Bare the world a bidden streak.

I can leave this sandpit
If only for a day
And look at all above the wit
That sleep has granted on my way.

I feel a better person
I feel a better son
For more important things may worsen
Moods of those who slower run.

For now I'll ring my jester bell,
I'll jump and dance and cheer.
I'm happy now for I do well
With all the sleep that's granted, dear.

And morning peach shall find me spent
Exhausted by this rocket jet
But I will smile for days that went
And glitters I have not held yet.

Oh, trade me
In your caravan
With turbanned thoughts in spiced tongues,
Trade me onwards to that land,

The take-away place
The land of shivering darkness
Where silver laces flowers
And mercury runs through veins.

Take me there,
On clouds of cold space
To where silence reigns like kings would dream
Over long nights in winter castles.

Sighs take his pillow
And lashes tickle lover's necks
I can dream like him,
On my silver snowy mountain

Leave me be
To shine down too
And watch you from above,
To warm the sky a little with my blessing.

I held my hand out to the dark
And scooped a black from air
I held it hard, a beating heart
'Tell me all, hostage fair,'

'I slink and sleek,
Cramp and creep,
Hustle hiss
I foe your sleep.'

Rumble, bumble, tumble so,
taken over by hand-held heart,
I crumble when I see it hold me,
It shakes me shakes me till I part.

Let it free, I said to me,
And go it did, fly on scales like music,
Clunking, chunking out the door,
I felt a little mad that day.

He had hair like leaping horses,
Golden brown of treasures took by skies
And he smiled
Like he knew

He had eyes like ruby fingers,
Fiery bright and reaching for me
Long and sharp of meticulous greed and
Hungry.

He had lips like hurricanes spoke of
Natural, free, loose or wild
His words sprung from him as they yearned to be free
Yearned to write poems.

He knew not, but he had totems
Crafted in the world for him
One called future, one called lessons
One called battle, the call-all of hope

He told me one day I had eyes of redbirds
I laughed and said the same
For in this poem we speak to each other
In this poem he shares my name.

The Whirring of the fan in the dark
As I lay on the cotton sheet
Sleep eluding me, perspiration finding me
This blasted Delhi heat

In the burning orange of the noon
The rickshaw tires play with the dust
And all is silent like a black n white film
It's just screaming in the color of rust

Neem trees, dried leaves
And the buzzing of the evening flies
Time to chase the ice lollies vendor
As the temple bell tolls by

Along comes the night again
Heaving and spewing, choking on fiery stars
Already restless for the next season
Oh why are Delhi winters so far

Now I'm free
From wicked thorns
And lives on sticks
Dangling
Like hanging men

And the silence bathes me
The night-eyes keep me clean
And I smile
Under the first warm moon
For many a blue sun

Now lets dream about
The stars
One of the most perfect dreams
On still nights like these
I could be happy

I could be old
And sigh in my sap skin
Like trees with dream roots
And deeper, drinking highs

I could be young
Or ne'er born again
And cry out
For the sake of hearing myself
Feel something newer than me.

I could be free
And tweak like the bird
Air about my brow and
Flowers about my face
Yes, sir, I could be free

Yes, madam, without you
I can be me.

Should you find yourself alone
And in need of someone, for
The first time in your woven life
Call on me, my darling
Call on me.

Should you find yourself silent
And in need of someone
To tremble lips and speak
As if they could not think before you
Call on me, my dear
Call on me

Should you find yourself regretting
The long lost tomes of love letters
And the grin of someone more understandable
Him, him, your him,
Call on someone less, my love
Call on me.

Should you find yourself misunderstood,
Mistaken on your sun-netting mountain top
And you need someone who understands down here
Call on me, my only
Call on me

For I am here,
Feet rooted to the ground you walked upon
Hands hanging in the shape of your shoulders
From which you kissed me goodbye,
I am here, for you,
For anything left of you

If you should find yourself taken
By any other than me,
But wonder, what, what would I have been to you
Call on me, my endless happy mistake
Call on me

I'll never stop listening
I keep my ear out to the wind
And feel your flowered words
Brushing against my expectant glance

On a sunny, cloudy day.