Heavy rains on the run
Raindrops rush to paint
a pretty picture
on my plain window pane
of what could be
and what could not
picture of thousands
tiny angelic footprints
of a walk in sterling skies
behind dark clouds
I touch the deep oceans
and the seas in each drop
Each drop a brief moment
of pure delight and thrill
In a breathe I lost it all
slowly they trickle down
thin traces of joy


Strange Place

It’s a strange place to be, your silence
In your silence I see my drifting soul
In your silence I feel your existence
In your silence I hear you drumming
In your silence I learn to swim and grow
My heart beating, long I walk in silence

Free flying

My back on the ground, I look up the clear blue sky with shades of spring green, fresh and joyful. I watch the birds fly swiftly and quietly from one tree to the other, with hardly anyone noticing them. What do they know? How do they know where to fly, how far, how high to soar? But they fly. Free they fly…

As always

As always
Long time gone too soon
For time waits not for us

As always
I wait to see you
Wondering where you are

As always
I could ask for more
Because I want more, but

As always
I couldn’t ask for more
It’s just so beautiful that you exist

As always
My world is beautiful
Because and always you are…

To be gone

To be gone
and be lost
in the empty
in the carousel
of marmalade dreams
leaving quiet traces
of secret places
we traversed and
broken pieces
of our story
now swept away
in the wilderness
where your soul shines

Whispers of Spring

The mist on the window pane is gone. Yesterday’s cold is slowly warming up. The fog is thinning out. The sun is streaming through gracefully. Pretty flowers are budding in plenty. Soon they will burst forth riots of colours. Bare trees are beginning to spot green. Cool breeze blowing and birds flying free and happy again… The earth is cool and I’m feeling good breathing in the fresh and soft whispers of spring…

Love every day

I woke up in the morning and my mind wandered back and forth on writing a line or two on Valentine’s Day. Why and why not write something about the day. After all, the whole world is celebrating love this one day and writing about it. But I was lost for words. What could I or should write, for I never knew and I don’t know if Valentine’s Day ever meant anything to me. It’s kind of strange. Why hasn’t it ever been any different or any special to me? And why should it be. But it is a wonderful and beautiful day for many. So wishes I sent and wishes I got. Yet, it’s just another day today and it has always been that way as far back as I could remember.

There was a story sealed with love. Today, love is in the air, they say. Of course, I see paper roses, paper hearts and plastic hearts hanging in the air, out there, everywhere. Red roses, telephone calls, sweet love songs and love poems make wave across the universe. It is, indeed, in the air. The color of the day is simply red. So much all around in just a day and I still cannot make sense of this one day, one color love. Why single out a day for love. All the fizz and thrill is gone the next day. The cake is all over. The song is all gone and the roses all dead till the next Valentine’s Day next year. So what is this day and what is this love.

Isn’t love real? Love begot us. Love is in the heart. Every day you feel, you love and you are loved. Every day is a beautiful day. Every day is special because you and I exist. Every day is a song. Some days you cry, some days you laugh, but you love every day. Doesn’t it call for celebration every day, any day, anytime? So, here goes my V-Day line to all my beautiful readers: Love filled happy hearts and lives to all, every day. Always.