Ephemeral

There was a time

When I used to feel

That life was just beginning

All the time, I felt

There is so much to explore

Back in my spring

And my summer

That lasted eons

I guess now,

Autumn has set in

And I fear how little time

I have left

To savor, to enjoy

All that the world has to offer

On a chilled, foggy day

Walking the frosted streets

All by myself

Wrapped up in my own thoughts

I lament

How late

I discovered

The joy

Of such days

The oneness

That gloom brings

The way it draws you

Unto yourself

And concentrates your essense

Inside, within

And so little time,

So little

To enjoy days like this

To enjoy

Thoughts

Bubbling

And percolating

Life, so magnified

When you stop living

On the fast lane

It's all personal

They say you shouldn't

Take things personally

And yet

If I smile

Through your rejection

Of me

Then who am I

What kind of monster am I

What do I have 

To smile about anyway

If you do not smile

Back at me

Starlight

Hungry

For a flash of starlight

A bit of a grass and flowers

Forest and trees

Swimming in a 

River of moonlight

Grey and glowing

Silver and shining

With the wind blowing

And the cold biting

Hungry 

For a bit of myself

One with the universe

And none else

Hungry

For some solitude

So rare

Amidst 

The honk of horns

The dust of tyres

And the glare of garishes

Hungry

For firelight and music

Chatter and glitter

Festivals and feasts

Rituals and rites

That only happen 

In the night

By the moon or stars

And bind the soul

Like no sun can

Hungry

For the

Singing and swaying

Musing and reflecting

Basking and soaking

Drowning and flowing

That can only happen

When you lay

Your buzzing thoughts

Your chores and your worries

Your tasks and your ties

To rest with the sun

And come

Free and unencumbered

Ready to immerse

In the night

So simple

And so unattainable 

In the next birth,

Perhaps

I might enjoy some

Or perhaps it is

Lost 

To previous births

Of suns and sunflowers

I never doubted

That I would be

The sun to

Your sunflower

Alas

That I am 

Only meant to be

Your sunflower

While you gaze

At another sun 

Whose leisure?

Amazing that

Men 

Who have 

Nothing to talk about

Other than politics

And how drunk they were

In different phases of life

Have all the time

And all the money

To sit around and 

Pontificate

To coffee and cake 

In the morning

And raksi and sitan

In the evening

While the women

Who have 

The entire life

To talk about

Have neither the time

To talk

Nor people to talk with

Let alone the money

To buy coffee and raksi 

Forgiveness

I need to learn from myself 

To forgive people

And talk and laugh with them

In minutes

The way I forgive my daughter

And laugh with her

Immediately after she says

Sorry. Hundaina

And blows me a kiss

Of patience in the face of pain

In vain do the men praise Karna

Who gritted hus teeth and bore 

The pain of an insect bite

As his preceptor slept on his bite

In vain do they praise him

For something

A mother does

Several times a day

And ask her how a night passes

With the baby's teeth and mouth

Glued to the softest, most delicate

Part of her body

Its nails curled around it protectively

Each ready to bite and cut and lash

As the mother

Supine

Tries this position and that

A back curved

An arm pressed

Hair pulled

Legs bent and squashed

All so that 

The baby doesn't wake

And if she is lucky

This happens

Only once a night

For two years

Until another baby