Winter

today,
I want to speak of winter...
of the empty white solitude,
the bone-chilling cold -
a harsh reminder
of what needs to thaw,
the skeletons of trees
dreaming of new forms,
and the silent breeze
feeding fresh lives.

yes, today,
I want to speak of winter;
not of the glory
of autumn or summer,
of the warmth of color and skin,
and the prettiness
of what's obvious;
no, not even of spring
and the bounce and smiles
of things exploding
into themselves
and each other;
for many have spoken
about them.

today,
I want to speak of winter.
of the unspoken,
of the unmet,
where life is on hold,
in the stillness
of a white womb,
yet changing quietly,
with the slowness
and grace
of unseen wheels
turning in the darkness,
and the innocence
of what simply is;

dressed in pure white,
is a mother waiting,
soaking in the harshness,
to feel the warmth
of skin against skin.

Walking on Knives

and I learn the art
of walking on knives,
where every prick
touches the folds
of a white rose,
opening herself up
to hold up my feet
with her thorns.

दिल की लड़ाई

तलवार उठाओ!
न हाथों की ,
न आँखों की ,
पर सच्चे दिल की ,
जो धड़कती है
उस दुश्मन की खोज में,
जो छोड़ देती, उस दिल में,
अपने कुचले हुए दिल की खुश्बू ,
रोम रोम में

Where I Want To Be

and when I reached
the mountain top
to smell the air
so crisp, rare and free,
I stepped down
back to the middle
with that pure breath
in my heart,
to feel the hearts
of those who were
still on their way up,
with a song on my lips,
the soft touch of a gentle word,
and a heart set free;
for that's where I want to be.

Purity

you look for coal
to find diamonds,
you look for oysters
to find pearls,
you look for water
to find the spring,
you look for the night
to find the stars,

but when you look within
you forget how to look -
you look for the light
closing your eyes to the darkness,
you look for what's pure
not wanting to touch
or feel what's impure;

there is no short-cut
to the rites of passage
into a throbbing heart,
that chooses to stay open
to distill the essence
from the hurt.