I wish to leave this path,
    to view from water's edge,
this creek become my hearth,
    by lake to which I pledge.

to wade with Oceanids,
    my boots submerge in mud,
adopt which day forbids,
    silk flashed away in flood.

the train wheels stopped at a station
and the roads leads to lake harmony
my homestead, the town my memories roots run deep
the air feels fresh while the sun is overhead
walking down the road, it brings me to a house
where a friend of mine once resided
i faded away from her life when i was eight
i try to summon her face but
her haunting childhood flash before my eyes
seven but her abusive father left her traumatized
stranded in an ocean from which she can't swim out

she would sit alone in her room
playing with the dolls wearing her mother's cardigan
and whenever i saw her, she would just smile
all she could wish was to fly high in the sky
too young to know the right steps
i wonder about her whereabouts
and is she fine?
i should've ran away with her
to a place far away from her father's reach
to a place in the mountains
where the cold winter feels like summer
where she would've spent time singing like crazy in valleys
where no one would've dare to hurt her again

dear gentle reader’s, go out and have fun
the summer is here, go visit a bookstore
feel the zephyr as it touches your face
when sun is up high and
swan’s playful game in the lake
sit by the lake with poetry in one hand
watch ladybug climb up your hand
lay down your head on the green grass
watch the paintings that tree shadow paints
forget your tiring efforts, make new memories

The boy I met on the river bank
Told me a truth
Unasked, unruth -

How do you smile
without a fake?
As if,
To cast a fire
And burn on a lake.

Serene waters,
Mesmerising vastness,
Sensations of aloofness,
And condensing happiness.

It nurtures my vessel,
A calming pulsation,
It’s triggered by nature,
This unexplainable pleasure.

Fog and mist rising,
And then disappearing behind the peaks.
Fog and mist rising
From the lake as if
The water itself is burning beneath its lurky surface.
Fog and mist rising and dissolving into the meadows,
Painting the grassland in grey and white.
Fog and mist rising and nestling in the deodars,
Reflecting the icy surface of the water in its vapour.
Fog and mist rises higher and higher than the mountain peaks as if teasing the ***** of the hill.
Fog and mist rising and tainting the hillside until nothing is visible,
Not even the roads in haunted small towns.
Fog and mist rising from nowhere and covering the hills
In blue and grey and white.
Fog and mist rising like an old curse after the rainfall dances.
Fog and mist rising and then disappearing
behind the peaks,
Where there is only the open sky.

My heart was always searching
even aware you were it’s home,
and each thought and feeling urging
to make sure you’d never be alone.

It’s the warmth within your eyes
and the comfort your voice can bring.
The way your smile lights up the skies
you’re my world, my heart, my everything.
When our bodies and fingers interlace
I’ve never felt so real and so complete,
it’s like art studying your beautiful face;
it’s the only sight I wish to greet.
Within dreams and when I’m awake,
you’re my ocean and my lake.

My eyes were always longing
to have you back and within my sight.
There’d be someone I’d be wronging
but wrong never was so right.

It’s the warmth within your eyes
and the comfort your voice can bring.
It’s the slow exhales and the quiet sighs,
when we’re comfortably silent or talking.
When our bodies and fingers interlace
I’ve never felt so real and so complete,
you’re forever my person and my place
I love you from your head down to your feet.
You’re the fix to every single break,
you’re my ocean and my lake.

Each inhale is euphoric bliss, we breathe for one another,
and if I could have one wish; it’d be that you had met my mother.
A home is what you have made
both on grass and where my heart is,
but I confess that I would trade
my only wish for your promise.
A promise I’d jump to make,
you’re my sea and my lake.

evening summer   overlooking the lake
                                from behind the fly screens
a lit stove   has yet to widen its warmth

my father-in-law strums his guitar
my three-year-old snuggles
pinching the notes  into his mothers hair braid

A green streetcar is standing alone in the rain,
The man on the corner is staring at the green street-
Car . He is trying to remember

His daughters fifth birthday.

The green streetcar is alone in the rain.
The man is alone on the street in the rain.
He is staring at the streetcar, trying to remember

His daughter’s best friend’s name.

The man can hear the rain falling on
The empty green streetcar.

Rain is running down the back of his
neck and it is making him cold.

She is so much older now.