Isn't it when you see the beloved's eyes
as sunset and dust
that you really know
how deep in shit
you really are?

Yours to comment

When the earth sleeps gently over certain hearts 

is it as payment 

for services rendered?

And when the earth erupts in flower, fire or melody, 
is it because certain hearts are 
too rebellious to die?

Yours to comment

When the poet decides to go silent, 

isn't that when he is at his eloquent best; 

didn't the artist release 

the most magical configurations of colour 

the day she retired 

easel and brush?

Yours to comment

Were you aware, 

perhaps in a sacred moment of 

intoxication, 

that an evil guard 

imprisons us by the 

winding of clocks?

Yours to comment

When you and I disappeared into us, 

did we become one with the universe, 

did we absent ourselves from relevance?

Yours to comment

When the mountain asked the river, 

'What did you do to my children?' 

did the river reply, 

'I took them to their grandparents' ?

Yours to comment

Is it true then that 

dew is but the tears 

shed by blades of grass 

on account of all burden of 

carrying feet, 

memories and hearts?

Yours to comment