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Dec 2015


she was talking in undertone
like the old hermits of the
Buddhist Monastery

not to prove any algorithm
or to put forward hypothesis
of social revolution

she was there with her
gentle smile and her bare arms
moving like gentle breeze

not like the smiling  bureaucrats
shaking the cold hands
before the secret deals

she was looking around
along the time scale of eternity
like the twinkling stars

from the distant galaxies
around the summer nights;
serene, poised like the Pacific

her looks were quite different
from the performers
playing with the power

behind the closed doors
after the success of
summit meetings here and there

she was there engrossed in
deep collaboration with
the forthcoming embryos

like the painter over her canvas
playing with all the colours
to make one of her own

one without any blood spot
one without any inflicted pain
one without any human grief
NilavroNill Shoovro
Written by
NilavroNill Shoovro
   Andrew Name and ---
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