Dawn after Rabindranath Tagore
As the lightening skies strike
another day from the heavenly ledger in
your beating, breathing heart and the
of your heartstrings sing of
that nearing moment when your
vocal cords vibrate like the final fade of a harp
's accord, the harmony, the
rhythm of life leaving way in a fitful
final act, take heed of your mind's murmurs
hold fast to the memory of
each of these coming moments.
Monsoon after Tishani Doshi
We run barefoot/sandal-shod on wet concrete because
the rains have washed clean this
once dust-strewn street is
reborn as wet wonderland in the monsoon
rains sing on corrugated tin rooftops like a poem.
Memories after Tishani Doshi
there is nothing we own as "our"
even pictures warp as they grow old
curved and stained in different ways, fading friends
we remember as smiles and fights and generalizations, who
now have lives and loves we cannot begin to fathom, who are
walking on diverging roads as the hours keep unravelling,
even as we strain snatching at the strings, like
slipping between grasping fingers, a fairy
time turns even concrete feelings to children's tales.
Rain that can't fathom how to liberate camphor from the vaults of the earth