The sea
like a giant's snores
makes it sentinels in jade
quiver, and in haste
they shed their arms
which fall softly
on cushioned ground
with my footprints
in its wake
as I walk into
the giant's nose.

I washed my plate
thrice I rinsed
I couldn't stand
the thought
of leaving behind
any trace
of food.

I want a clean plate.

It was the middle of spring
when our love took root,
I had tears rolling down my cheek,
he had a smile that said he knew.
His arm was around my shoulder,
and mine around his waist,
clutching tightly to a fold on his shirt,
this was how we walked down the lane.

It was the beginning of summer
and like the blazing sun,
our passion bloomed,
days together, hours with each other
even time grew lazy with us two.
His arm was around my shoulder
and mine was around his waist
clutching tightly to a fold on his shirt,
this was how we walked down the lane.

Towards the end of autumn
leaves began fall,
our foreheads often wrinkled,
in harsh tones we began to talk.
He had plans, and I had a dream,
he was stubborn as I had ever been.
Our silences drew longer,
our worlds a shade apart,
when we did meet halfway,
the resentment followed fast.
His arm was around my shoulder
and mine was around his waist
clutching tightly to a fold on his shirt,
this was how we walked down the lane.

It was on one winter morning
that he finally left,
he carried his dreams,
on proud shoulders,
leaving behind a cold bed.
His arm was around my shoulder
mine around his waist
clutching tightly to a fold is his shirt
I wept as I saw
our photograph;
a reminder of our days.

It won't take me long
to rouse from my sleep
and awaken.
But I'd be leaving behind my dreams,
I'd be leaving behind
a part of me.

drawing circles
on a window
trying to capture
slipping drops
of rain:
to save them from
falling to an end
or keeping them
on an edge to fade?

either way,
they will go away -
life passing in play.

thoughts flit through my brain
gathering wool,
getting stuck
in the crevices
absorbing sense
that occasionally leaks,
and I end up
writing poetry.

edge of the cliff
melding shadows
of water and sky

the endless delight
in the freedom of flight
is a promise that keeps
when it is only done right

momentary wane
of the strength
I will reclaim

I want to hold your hand

surreptitious fall
of the might
that will rise tall

will you hold mine again?