Time

I'd thought it wasn't my time,
Not yet;
But you are right here
Looking at me...
So I might as well stop counting,
The grains of time
That I thought I still held in my fist.
Maybe I should just close my eyes,
Reminisce,
And hold close-
The memory of all the smiles,
And the laughter.
Now at last,
My heart doesn't have room for tears
Or regrets,
As my eyes go still...
My fist opens
To let my clock roll down.

Now at last
I learn to forgive.

Silence

There isn’t so much to tell-

Not anymore-

When today

Is not so different

From yesterday...or even the day before.

Tea and a little something,

For breakfast,

And then sending the guys off.

A few hours of chaos,

With the dog running around;

The maid scrubbing away:

The screech of the scrub against the pots,

Leaving a dull ache in my ears.

Picking up the book,

And opening it on Chapter 8;

The wail of the neighbour’s new baby;

Avoiding the phone once again

(I’m just not big on conversations).

The dog’s in the backyard now,

And the house so silent…

And somehow it’s become my one true friend-

No demands,

No questions,

No expectations...

Just blessed silence,

And me.

(Composed - 29 December, 2009)

Twelve Again

Each blade is tall
And green;
As a mother watches her little girl-
The one I've sometimes seen-
Chasing butterflies through the grass.
I'd chase butterflies too,
But I wait for my friend,
On my side of the wall -
The wall that sits between our homes,
The wall where we sit and talk,
And wonder,
About all the years to come...

I smell green coriander,
Sinking into a pot of yellow lentils,
And hear onion hissing in the pan...
'Maa' must be cooking.
The afternoon is almost spent,
And the sun seems so much nearer;
As if it might touch the earth.
I hear laughter,
From the open field -
It is my sister with her friends;
She has the bicycle,
So she must've fixed the flattened tyre.

I still wait:
I walk around,
I look around...
There are blackbirds around the swing -
Three of them -
But the postman's already gone;
I know all that isn't true anyway:
The "One for sorrow, two for joy..."
Impatience tugs on my arm,
And yet,
Life is beautiful,
For I am twelve again...

Reckoning

It's a burning ache
That bends your strength
And shatters the spine
Of your will
You cry
You die
And yet...death is not an option
But why do you care,
Anyway?
Didn't you say
That your soul was taken already?
So you must wait
Must endure
For it is fate
And yes, it is now your turn
You sowed...and so you shall reap.

Quiet Sits the Night

Quiet sits the night
Against my window:
Not a flutter,
Not a sound,
As if in anticipation
Of something new...
Not unlike me,
As I still wait;
To break out of my cocoon,
And spread my wings
In a world unknown.
I hesitate,
For I know I will fumble.

Perhaps I should just wait-
Just one more day.

Stranger, Friend...

I see you peep
And then retreat
Through the fluttering curtains at my window;
And then I hear you...
I hear you rustle,
As you move with the wind.
Are you trying to hide?
Are you trying to catch a glimpse of me,
Without being seen,
Like your friend at my window
Yesterday?
I feel the smile on my lips
As I leave my desk,
That holds a silver-framed picture
Of him.
Maybe I'll tell him about you
Maybe not...I think not.
I look out,
And there you are-
Unfamiliar-
And strangers though we are,
I seem to remember you,
From some random moment
Of disenchantment.
I see you soar today,
Fly free and soar high,
Yellow tail flapping in the wind;
The green smile on your face,
Has smudges from the fingers
Of the nine-year-old,
Whose hands are still sticky.
Not so disenchanted today, are we?
Do tell your other friends
To drop by.

Some Things That Will Never Be...

I watch the blue threads on your loom

Skipping up and down

As the shuttle races

Zig-zagging tiny green patterns

And I think perhaps it lacks some yellow

To add some happiness

But it seems you have other plans

With just blue and green

So I sit back and watch

And I tell myself

That there are some things

That could have been

And some

That will never be.