Fresh from the past

On a cloudy day the dysania

Is a given though the seatherny

Seems to suggest some days

Can be forgiven for their slowness

The distance of the native city

Vanishes and the feet stand by

The lake as the sun slowly rises

Making the heart feel happily warm

The childhood friend soon joins me

With his fishing tackle to spend hours

Catching sunlight and singing songs

That probably kept the wary fish away

Stern faces pop up now and then with

Gratuitous advice not to while away time

We laugh at them and time laughs with us

The feet return juvenescent and I am ready to

Enter the world with eyes fresh from the past.

Shading long-distance

The moon is being eaten by the earth

Or so it seems when its shadow

Takes away all the satellite's glow

In another city we returned home

Through almost deserted streets

From a movie during an eclipse

Had a meal against the neighbour's

Dire warnings and something else

Without any significant consequences

Tonight the slow-moving clouds cannot

Keep away and keep hiding the show

What shade is this, blood red or copper?

The flatness turns to spherical as my son

Keeps coming back to the balcony 

To capture on camera this cosmic line-up

The mythology of a monster ingesting

The full orb makes the spectacle more

Dramatic than it is but no less wondrous

Even when it is no more out of reach it is

As if we have now all made a landing there.

Tears are too human

The world keeps disappearing 

From me in little baby steps 

The child has grown up into

New times that I cannot enter

His room is full of music more

In step with the feet than the heart

The traffic races from stop to stop

In a pace faster than I would like

Destinations arrive too soon saving

Time I do not know what to do with

The distance grows and speeds increase

The slow feet cannot but be left behind

The garbage bins pile up with the useless

Machines are feted till they are outdated

Tears are frowned upon as too human

Night embraces all whose suns have set.

A rainy day

I wake up to a rainy day

After a rainy night I left

Behind to chase absurd dreams

The clouds promise another

Idle day without feeling guilty

About putting off some chores

I watch the little one next door

Going down the stairs in raincoat

There her school bus is sounding

An impatient rush hour horn that

Can be heard all over at this hour

There are no more Monday mornings

For me to hurriedly wake up to meet

The rain falls a while and takes a break

Time has given a licence now to be slow

After all those years of rushing about -----

There's still time for the feet to cry halt.

Unwillingly

What conversations we sometimes have

When preparing to sleep the blessed sleep!

Her friend's sister talked of nearing death 

"There he's at the door waiting to enter"

Sometimes she grabbed mother's hand

Fearful of the coming darkness and asking

That she go with her wherever she went

She was in such pain that they prayed for

Her to be freed from the clutches of life

After having prayed for her to be spared

Death is the light at the end of the tunnel

The brooding silence of the cloudy sky

Of the street when all the din dies down

Of the house she left behind unwillingly.

Liminal

The evening light is blue and black

Between day and night lingers the dusk

In a liminal place of a thousand sighs

What has been lost is more than a day

A love is buried again and mourned again

What can't be tugs once more at the heart 

A desire comes begging and is sent away

Amid all the noise of the traffic a sense of 

Death and silence hangs in the dusty air

The signal is red and comes with a hearteen

This is a time of timeless longing and ache

But we can't stop for long and lament

While waiting for the light to turn green

This pang of grief must be primordial

What the caveman felt when the sun set ---

The city picks up and flees into the night.

Rest in peace

The mind imagines its absence

From everyday scenes at all times

When the street is thick with traffic

And near empty as sleep shuts eyes 

The feet stir less and less outdoors

And almost never after lights are on

For the eyes cannot stand the glare of

Unblinking headlights bearing down

All those who have left have left for good

Though we invoke them on certain days

Marking their absence with photos they

Stare out from giving no clue where they

Might be still wandering restless, formless

The mind cannot imagine its absence after

All the turmoil and torment and ferment

Rest in peace is what I say to all of us.