Stones, Precious

My feet scarred from crossing

A cold crystal spring,

I wander into

An emerald forest


Under turquoise sky

Coral berries and leaves

Glow red in the sun

Like the red prints my feet leave


Hungry, gaunt agate wolves

Lick the black diamond soil

Behind me and howl

At moonstones in my eyes


And my weak human heart

In the world made of stone

Begs that I turn and run

But I can’t, mesmerised

A Moment of Weakness

I beg you, mirror, do not cry!

Don’t give this empty room the pleasure

Of witnessing your glass tears slide

Down my glass face, and fall, and shatter;


Don’t let it see me on my knees,

Bereft of purpose, hope and meaning,

Struggling to breathe and not to scream

Under this low, old, crumbling ceiling;


Don’t let my room remember that

Like others, I sometimes have moments

Of weakness, and forget my strength –

If it remembers, I’ll be homeless;


Reflect my eyes in yours as dry,

My lips, pressed shut, as if they’re smiling;

Help me pretend that I am fine,

That here, in me, there’s light still shining

For Me

Whatever gods you pray to, pray for me

Believe in something for a day – for me

My mouth, you see, is sealed forever now

I couldn’t even say my own ‘good-bye’


In early spring smile at the sea for me,

Still cold but open to the warming light;

In summer build a house of sand for me,

In autumn make me a bouquet of leaves,


In winter dance alone or dance with snow –

The way I used to always dance alone –

And then, again, pray to whatever gods you know

For me, who never really learnt to speak








Among the timeless lands of ice

You rise –

I kneel before you


I’ve walked so far already but there seems

To be no end

To trails that brought me here


Does any lead to you?


Among the countless rolling rocks

You stand,

Unmoved and moving


Away from me who cannot help

But reach,

And reach for you


Mother of all my dreams


My eyes are evil

For they show me

The glow of hope

A million miles away


My hands are evil:

Things they touch are

All dust and clay,

Mirages in hot air


My feet are evil:

Leaving myriads of prints

On twisted paths

They do nothing but hurt


My heart is evil

For its changing rhythm

With long and longer

Silences is fraught


My mouth is evil

For it houses

Whole tomes of cruel

Hurtful words


My mind is evil

For it tells me

That evil, too, can

Somehow be a good