No return

We left because we thought

Leaving was best when staying

Would mean dying in despair

And waiting looked like endless

With no one coming today or 

Tomorrow though it was said

It would happen when it was right

We could not wait to find out for we

Didn't know who was coming, whether

To free us or tell us to wait some more

For the true one who follows the other;

Leaving was best for in moving, the mind

Lost its imaginary mooring and the feet

Learnt the virtue of moving, not waiting

Indefinitely for time to move and change;

In movement there was freedom for there

Was no destination and no threat of return.

Need only to be still

Time hides inside the mind

Making the feet look for it

In places they have long left

The landscape has changed

And erased the landmarks

That marked our growing up

The house we cannot rent out

For fear of losing it to tenants

Who are too possessive to leave 

Remains locked with all its

Furniture and memories inside

From the wall hanging gifted

By a friend called to heaven early

God exhorts us to only be still

And leave the battle to him,

From time to time whenever

We can, we return and relive

The years we cannot relive,

Sit staring at the hill looming

In the distance and still carrying

Footprints of sky-clad renunciates ----

Our coming and going count for little

As the time that counts keeps chipping away.

Together

At first light birds find their voice again

After the long silence forced by night

For me tottering out of forgetful dreams

Into the new day the chorus from the trees

Seems a gracious greeting from kindred

To one who can fly about without wings

Bring down white clouds to soften nests

Make the moon glow brighter with praise

Let the rainbows linger long after sunset 

At home both on earth and in the sky 

Revelling in the respair of the present 

Keeping dreams warm till they are hatched

Teaching fledglings that they have to fly

But can't fly forever for they have to roost;

The sun begins to cast its shadows

The colours return to the colourless

The streets are back to their cacophony ----

For a while at least the other was together.

Anonymous

On the streets the camera

Watches the odd observer 

Stopping to watch the trees

In bloom and the flowers at

His feet, worn from walking

The observer is observed

The dog looks at the masked

Bespectacled man suspiciously

Could he be the dog-catcher or

Just the post-corona survivor

Guarding against the next wave?

The anonymous do not draw 

Crowds to an untimely death 

They go about their daily life

As peacefully as possible 

Do not dream of what is not

Possible or desirable or lasting

They are happy to just see

A butterfly on their way to work

And the moon shining when they

Come trudging home on tired feet.