We are travelers all our lives.
Like the sun and moon, never come to rest.
When the body stops, the motion survives.

Time twists inside me.  I buried two wives,
their love spent on an endless road.  My quest  
consumed them, traveling all their lives.

Profligate summer mocks my waning drives.
Riddles of the road languish here, unguessed,
where my body stops. The motion survives

In my art’s vigor, you say, derives
force from what now seems the bitter  jest
that we are travelers all our lives.

My friend, before the end arrives
There must be time to seek again the west
beyond the sunset, where motion survives

in the dying sun, blazing, as it revives  
inhuman tongues that said it best
that we are travelers all our lives.
When the body stops, the motion survives.

He gives his heart a shake,
And laughs until his belly aches.
The only other sound’s the break,
Of distant trees and birds awake.

_Deepak K B

Learn to look through the dark,
when there is no way,
the light will guide to move you far away.

_Deepak K B

Tiring eyes, Dozing legs, cry
Where the heart, let you go and try
To spot every pleasing dawn makes mind fly

_Deepak K B

Riding, Gliding in a flow,
Through the paths high and low,
Moving clouds on the blue,
Wandering beneath without clue.

To sneak at the peak,
listening to the crickets creek,
along with the buzzing winds,
riding through the uncovered mists

_Deepak K B

Have you ever imagined yourself in-between the trees,
disconnecting yourself from the ideal world,
where there is no one to judge you,
where you can enjoy your own company,
caring for none, but only one...

clearing my ways ahead,
just to find peace ☮ in a land,
when the dramatic world lacks its bond,
you to just behold and stand...
and up above the clear free sky,
wandering through the passing clouds nearby

_Deepak K B

It was noon, sometime in mid-July;
Imagine the road, a twisting highway to my grave.
The bus, a roller coaster ride unhinged from the tracks.
Dodging missiles with headlights, horns rattling my nerves.
Just another three hours.

It was midnight, somewhere out at sea,
Somewhere in the universe, the Milky Way, another galaxy.
A shallow heartbeat, a distant echo of a Chinese Karaoke show, but all else was still.
The stars never seemed so vast, and I remembered that they were bigger than me,
I was just a speck.

It rained on the way back to ** Chi Minh,
The roads turned to rivers, the scooters grew ponchos; under them a family of three.
The city brought chaos; sad, tired faces, begging for one thousand ****; a cent.
The children danced in the downpour, jumping over sticks
Like hopscotch.

I thought of Ha Long Bay, just the night before,
I couldn’t hear the silence; I couldn’t see the stars; a dingy hostel ceiling, grumbling strangers snores.
I went to sleep dreaming of peaceful valleys, fresh spring waters, trees as far as the eye could see,
For tomorrow was a new day,
The next part of my journey.