It is time for me to shed tears now,
Those fragile dews that hate to mirror anything;
So afraid it'll come out misjudged.

There is beauty somewhere in this:
My tears and sighs that fall hard, protected by your
Own brand of freebie umbrellas.

Unguarded, you tried to flee from this misery that diluted us.
But haven't you learned, love, that there's no use in running away?
It'll catch up with you like a manic breeze.

I knew long before, that this crossing was laid out
For you and me. Those white flecks don't mean anything;
It is how we cross that matters.

It has become morose now, this road. Too wet and unhealthy
For both of us to roll on. But I see the possibility
That lay ahead, that mild flicker of hope under those shared umbrellas.

That frailty that subdues our world,
It's only a vicious mind-game the weather plays.
Look how the clouds blacken and groan, the acid drops coming to reign.

Shalini Nayar
(c) 2002