The tree is like the sea

In windy July the tree

Is in unending movement

Like the sea that cannot

Stop its dance or chant

In my line of sight a crow

Is busy building a nest with

What it can find on the street

It often catches its breath 

While carrying a broomstick

Or dry twig, on my roomy ledge

The heaving branches make the 

Little airy home in the making, bob

Seeing all this frenetic realty trend

Another bird is buoyant, serenades

Its speckled mate, through the day and

Night, when its cry cannot go unheard.

Yesterday begins today

I slipped back in time

Woke up a day back

I told whoever would

Listen I've already lived

This day and would like

To go forward to today

One wise-looking man 

Outside a pub observed,

As if offering a profundity,

"Life doesn't repeat itself,

So this will be different"

"If it doesn't repeat itself

How can it be yesterday?"

"Today changes yesterday

Yesterday begins today"

"New findings change the past

History is turned upside down

Today's yesterday is not the same"

Everyone speaks so well as if

They are following a script ---

This must certainly be a dream

For only here time moves back

So that one can live two days

At once and come back to find ----

Time cannot be left behind.

Seeking is fraught

The sky is a pastel blue now

Clear of all clouds 

You won't believe

It had just rained 

If you had not seen

The drizzle coming down

This is a festival month

Invoking the dark goddess

The procession of devotees

In yellow clothes and with milk pots

Pauses time and traffic 

The temple is not too far

But I have not entered it

For so many years now

There are no more prayers

Left in me, for seeking is fraught;

The devotion of the others

Is touching, the faith that keeps

Them going year after year even

After they saw the skies fall and

There was no one to stop the fall.

Rodent

What with the nightly visit

Of the rodent that has 

Found a way past our

Defences into the house

And the daylong heat of the sun

That cannot find a way out

Sleep is not at all guaranteed 

All the bad memories of all

The houses we have graced

With our honourable presence

Come tumbling out like toddlers

Allowed to play in the frontyard

All the lessons learnt so far

Will help us if life repeats itself

But it doesn't and revels in suspense

The youtube hack to repel a rat has

Been put into operation by the door

Garlic and onion must keep the one away

If it is orthodox, high-born and particular.

Authority

Power flows both ways

From the top to the bottom

And from the bottom when

The dead find their voice after

They die, in other voices which

Lose their fear after witnessing

A death as violent as that of the

One crucified because he spoke

Of a kingdom to those who knew 

Of no other than the mundane

And mistook his truth for treason,

Under the third degree the truth is

Mistaken for falsehood till the lies

That want to be heard are blurted,

When the blows fell they were not

Felt by anyone else like they were

When it was god who was beaten

By the river it was said he birthed.

evolution

if i cannot go back should i die 

and not shame my progenitors

how can a home i grew up in

overnight exile me leaving me 

at the mercy of strangers who 

turned me into an insect they

tortured at will because they 

could ---- how did this world 

so full of love turn into a dark 

cave of wild beasts for me ---

if i cannot go back where can 

i go but away hoping i do

not wake up in another hell 

where there is more torment ----

i didn't disappear like i thought

i would i only let others disappear

here there are no questions asked

and to be single is not a stigma

my students listen enraptured when i

talk of evolution and how the world

could not have been created by someone

where i live i see familiar trees that dance

when the wind blows and are happy to stay

quiet when the breeze keeps away and

everyone talks about the extreme weather

wishing the rain arrives right on cue like the

flowers do and once i saw a bier go by

leaving behind a trail of dead flowers

i thought that could well have been me

i am glad i had the will to leave without

looking back the light of my books lighting 

the way that others too have taken to liberty.