Saturday, March 17, 2012

Home

Familiar walls,
The room as cosy as a womb,
The favourite spot,
The window view
Of pigeons circling
The temple tower
And landing deftly,
It's a coming back to
With the spirit unbroken
When there could well have been
An unseeing return on other feet,
The dusky goddess listens
With a glint of tears,
And a flash of fire,
The night hides the wounds,
Mother only asks
If you have eaten
Though she knows
You have been beaten
Knows too you can never be beaten.

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