A heart may find its content
but life is a puzzle,
one keeps on throwing dices.
It is melody of life or plans
we go on like
tendril grows over tree,
We call our trails our will
and name our hope a star in sky
bejewelled where one can set their eyes,
it is tradition.
breeze in valley or faint rain from sky
we look for clues when we have found
our cluster and mile.
“Time changes not
for those who have learned to change
signs will remain the same
in the intricacies of these lines
drawn on palms.”
On trail there are visible marks
for those who may ask
these long winding roads where may take
where may end no one knows
breeze is heavy with its season, no thoughts
I would walk again and with a song
I long have cherished but the soul so broke
there must be purpose or I felt so.
This dreariness of life I could not live
no dreams are there but must I believe
no lose or frayed ends or goals
within heart’s grasp and a numbing rest.
Greener on our side
since last time when we were talking of stars
trees shook off its crown wet soil
reminded of aroma of sweet clime
the passages went ahead where
a hill is bend on a hill.
I would not take a deroute,
the sign that went past said it is 5km away
where skies in mist and everything consistently
hearing a monotonous tone of the valley.
If there is one thing I could remember
laughter filled in heavy boughs of snow
in new sun that is barely there
and dreams of our eyes.