Thursday, 15 December 2016


I cannot stand so high, after
Waking up in every morning,
In dream or in open eyes,
In gravity, in sunlight,
Like this coconut tree
As if it is coming from
Different planet in sense
That it always opens leaves
Like an umbrella, celestial rescuer,
Paying nothing to masters of locality.

Words, sand particles, mists -
All are like wavering systems
Around our dormitory, where
Buying and selling need voice
Of punctuality, errorless depiction,
For those who are not concern
With time, life, steadiness while walking.
I cannot touch your head,
Cannot meet your eyes,
Cannot adjust with your height,
It is like semblance of settling
With one integration having with us
In the nature of earth’s possession,
I have to learn how to brewing up

In silent loving attitude, standing alone.

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