The wind asks the cherry treeto wake me upby rapping on my windowwith its overgrown branch.It wants me to judge the orchestrawith the air aroundas one colossal woodwind instrumentplayed by the inept fingers and mouthof the trees and windows left open.The sound that they produceis similar to the […]
I took my city dreams to bed.After a night of passion,we lie side by sidelanguid fingerstracing the contours of my soulI know what I seekdoes not exist in that time warp.Now, the phantom that you seeopening a portalback to that old church steepleis me.
Twenty Word Tuesday by Bulbul Hope If you choose to forgive me, do it somehow, without conditions. Don’t give hope todayand take it away tomorrow. Leena
Lovewas trapped betweenthe kerfs of what we saidand we meant.Out of reachyet visible. We triedto retrieve,nevertheless,what were kerfsbecoming abysses. Then,we let love go and sighed‘Now for usit is forever autumn’
He holds her handsWhen he feelsthat words are inadequate.She smiles,hearing his wordsthat his touch articulates.
Today,no one would judgeif she extricatesher wants,tucked away,buried undereveryone else’s needs.Because it isa day dedicated to her name. International Women’s Day
Her luscious versesshrivelled and diedunspoken, unwritten,on the tree of diffidence.
She collects moonbeams in a jarTo sew a seamless silver scarf That would artfully hide her ugly scars.
Makar Sankranti is approaching and the kites are already out. All I expected was a gustto help me airborneI am still soaringI feel the breeze light on my faceThen I become the windUntil a tugholds me in place.My dance with the wind.
Hope leaves a shimmering trail, even while fleeing from the army of the shadows of despair