hyphenating light

in a breaking Heart.

the softening gyres

of silence...comely as

balloons around the

wrists of tree limbs.

reviewing the terrible

pull of a string let go.

a deflated head made

of color.

spotted by a solitariness,

that wind rushes away

from.

as it moves it.

बात यदि गपशप की होती
तुम से बढ़कर कोई नहीं
दिल की लगी कुछ और है
जिसका तोड़ तू‌ कभी नहीं।।

for each seed growing in a strong tree,
half a million other seeds will bite the dust,
except, to taste the dust they must believe  in the power of usefulness,

- unable to think that they will never germinate
they let themselves be carried away by exotic dreams:
dreaming of being nibbled by sparrows, washed by rain,
smelled, chewed by squirrels, beaten by hot-cold winds,
swaying in foamy waves,
touched by a second chance,
than
rotten in the mud under a tree,  be it a strong tree, who cares,
in other words, about a vigorous tree when you are a survival  arch,
canopy
arched up to the white canvases.

Yesterday,
I will forget about tomorrow.