The night sky speaks nothing, but beauty;
In a country setting where the night sky is euphoric and soothing.
Trillions of stars shine from light years away.
My body may leave, but here my soul will stay.
Under the brightness of the moon.
Under the shooting stars in the sky.
Tranquility so delightful,
I don't want to say goodbye.

Little twisted pages,
Soiled by frantic fingers
In you I hope I've outgrown
the woes of days gone by.
Your delicate leafs crackle
now gently peeled apart;
thick with tales of past
and hopes for future;
Summers' days are immortalized
by stale, flattened daffodils
and arrow pierced love hearts.
Words flow in arching loops
leaning top heavy to the right.

The haze of breath
in frostbitten air
makes machine of
a body with a drunk
at the wheel.
Wisps of air  escape;
engineered to heighten
awareness of self.
Each ones exit increasing the
loneliness
I've always loved hearing;
"Any port in a storm".
Trimmed with an air of ambiguity.
How unambiguous is it though,
when looked at in hindsight.

I chose that port for this storm!

Gladly
you told
♡"I love you"♡
But
sadly
it was in
my dream

Spring came full of rejuvenating hope to ward off the chilly winters,
It came replete with dreams of days much brighter,
It came to exfoliate & gently scrub away the old ones,
Yes it came to make way for the new flowers.

It stayed till the sun was high up there in the shy sky,
It stayed till the sun burnt holes in human pockets with bills of electricity,
It stayed till the sun was cursed for being out there with AC's to help the well to do,
Yes it stayed there till it was the merciless month of June.

Summer then took over in July by burning animal & human skins alike,
It even did not spare a patch of cool water in the naked-barren lands,
It made animals cry & people kneel down and call for help,
Yes their calls weren't left unanswered and soon it was the rainy monsoon.

Monsoon - the rainy season lashes upon the oven hot land in August's end,
It eases the hot temperatures and releases peafowls in mating,
It even threatens to drown the ill-prepared cities of India by flood-waters,
Yes Mumbai is just one example of how Indian people want the autumn to come.

Autumn - the reliever from torrid showers,
It is an exception in the Indian season cycle,
It is neither that torrid monsoon before it nor is it the hostile winters succeeding it,
Yes it is a short calm time just before the winter season extreme in the north.

Winter season as we've learnt to call it in schools,
It sends chills down the spines of Indian people all over,
It is harsh only in the north but the other people simply don't have tolerance or genes,
Yes I love the beautiful winter season so what if once it nearly took my life while on trekking.