Thursday, July 06, 2006

Cycles

The rain falls
on the window
Moves upward
towards the sun
And comes back
to the window,
the same shape,
the same sound,
at a different time

Those who left
are back
in phone conversations
Will stay in
the voices of the head,
in the lamp shadows
of the room
and leave,
and come back
at a different time

The ones who were here
with footholds in the mud
with palms holding the heart
are leaving, slowly,
towards silences,
towards beginnings
towards the land of the sun,
for the time being,
till a different time.

2 comments:

How do we know said...

is gud.
Mybe those who go stay for a while.. maybe they comoe back.. but maybe they don't..

Sindhu said...

In a way, we are all waiting for that "different time"...

VERY nice one... Really touching...