Worlds off a factory line

 

Every night we create worlds

In our dreams,

Knowing well that dreams

Will die most times young,

Other times we carry them

Into the day,

Into our worlds,

And find that the worlds

We created,

Are all the same,

As if, off a factory line.

Get up from the grime

 

All times are good times

To bloom,

It's never too late,

Never too soon.

We'll take our time

To get up from the grime.

An angel is playing the truant

 

Kiss me once before I die,

And do remember that redolent high,

Ere I give up the ghost,

Feel the tremble in my being's host.

Later, when a familiar scent

Wafts up your air benign,

And a familiar tremble comes to haunt,

An angel is surely playing the truant.

Friday, the 13th, is truly blessed.

 

It's day of miracles:

The sun went up from the East,

Birds chirped and went free,

Got my hot cup of tea,

The car started

And did not demur,

The boss had taken the day off,

India is Chess World Champion,

Friday, the 13th, is truly blessed.

Earth is still a heart

 

In the beginning 

there was only a tiny heart,

Till God said, 'let there be light!'

And the heart started melting,

Some parts of the heart froze again,

And became land,

Rest became oceans,

The earth therefore,

Is still a heart:

Some parts melted;

Some parts still frozen.

Yearning place between love and pain

 

When tomorrow comes, it will come,

You can't rush it;

Yesterday has gone, but isn't yet buried,

You can't hush it;

If today is long, let it be long,

Do not crush it;

For, there is a space between,

Loss and gain,

For, there is a yearning place between,

Love and pain.

Blues of the sky

 

Why is the sky blue

During day,

And black

In the night?

Because it cannot

Hide its pain

During day,

As it does, in the night.

Smugly or precariously?

 

Wisdom perched precariously?

Or,

Wisdom sitting smugly?

Went harm's way

 

Harm beckoned me on her way,

Indeed,  I went harm's way,

Wittingly went heart's way,

Wittingly went love's way.