Living in our glass houses
We take care to look away
Strangers, acquaintances we remain
And in the dream we meet in the woods,
Make love like the storm
To follow the outpouring
Passion of our dreams.
Again we drift off on
The paths that people take
To reach back to where
They had begun
In the comfort of their living room
By the fireplace
That kept their hearts warm in
The glass cocoons
They built to fool themselves
Into everlasting kinship.
The path by the river led away.
You knew not of its
Meanderings as we drifted on
Talking of the sun, the fields,
The gigantic ilanhi tree that had bloomed
And spread its carpet of stars in
Your child dreams of yesterday.
Your pain on remembering the loveless days
Of collecting rain water on the sly
To draw your visions, of the
Tree felled for money to fuel
Concrete dreams of wise ones bled
Into my marrow and bleached
My soul till I knew it was
Time for me to be reborn.
The jagged rocky path
Is fraught with steep ravines
And a slip on the smooth round stones
Will send you hurtling into
The abyss yawning on either side
But the climb is exhilarating and
The temple deity on the hill top stands
A mute spectator to the wishes
And dreams cradled on the
Overhanging boughs of the banyan.
Those who beat the path say
That the climb is worth it.
Ilanhi tree – Mimusops elengi commonly known as Medlar, Spanish cherry and bullet wood.
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