Monday, 21 March 2016

The rebirth

On the long mud path to high mountains,

an old man was painting on scrap.

Grey hair and wrinkles,

sweat and bright blue paint wetting the ground below.

There was only the sound of wind

and the strokes of an old wooden brush.

Perhaps seeing my curious look 

he said, "This is for when I come again".

Sunday, 20 March 2016

The only question

He shouts, laughs and gives orders,

on the third floor of this tall building.

What an energetic man! People say.

On another evening I met him in the lift.

Just two of us.

Are you real? I asked him.

What do you mean? He looked at me with a strange face.

Oh..No..I thought you were someone else, I said.

Monday, 14 March 2016

For my eternal

That road was almost empty except for a few robins.

Dry yellow leaves were dancing in the wind.

I saw a woman walking from the other side.

Curly hair and dark brown eyes.

Have we met before? I asked her.

She looked at me with a gentle smile and said,

You asked me the same when we met years before.