often,
all I want
from this world
is to see
wholeness -
how everything
is so full of itself,
like that tiny peepal
growing from a crack
below the window sill
near the terrace -
the one I saw
in my mother's house,
last afternoon,
smiling in the blaze
of another day
spent.
I wonder how she got there.
all I want
from this world
is to see
wholeness -
how everything
is so full of itself,
like that tiny peepal
growing from a crack
below the window sill
near the terrace -
the one I saw
in my mother's house,
last afternoon,
smiling in the blaze
of another day
spent.
I wonder how she got there.
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