NIGHT

Sun puts on white gloves
on its light hands
before twisting the neck
of another day
Dogs howling alarmingly

-

A bored kid repeatedly opens
and closes the refrigerator door,
watching intently as the light
appears and disappears
A universe comes into existence,
expands and then dies

-

Swift rain fingers
playing the taut skin of earth
like a skilled percussionist

-

The evening sun
placed befittingly behind
the overhead cables
Like the sound hole
of a stringed musical instrument,
strummed by some unknown fingers
A flock of birds rises from the cables,
like notes in crescendo

-

Dog-eared night
Conscientious barks
serving as bookmarks
for a world in repose
A token of continuity
lest it forget from where
to pick up the next day
if left to go silent

-

Rain leaves the edges of the world
adorned with pretty, hanging droplets,
so elegantly that it seizes the mind
It reminds me of my grandmother
who would crochet scallop borders onto
the edges of pillow covers and handkerchiefs,
beautifying whatever she could find
with such earnestness that it makes me
wonder if she intuitively understood
that "beauty would save the world"

-

With a quick flip, she parts
her wet hair in the middle,
like opening closed doors
Droplets of water splatter
like a startled flock of pigeons

-

'Iktara'
Man is a taut string tied on one end to the temporal, the material, and on the other end to the eternal, the spiritual. Though there is tension in the string, it's also why music emanates when the hand of loneliness plucks the string.

-

NON-DUALITY

The illusionist within
chopped our perception into
two - 'I' and 'not-I', deceptively,
like the classic sawing trick,
while we gladly remained
a credulous audience

-

Rotating fan -
a full moon; tides rising
in the curtains

-