why play god when the rain knows its shape
Category: Uncategorized
a mild morning equally divided between lethargy, grey tendrils and the stuttering light
blades of grass defend a tiny dew pond: protect your quiet
strange times on the subway: hackles up and alert
sparrows gather at the coffee table: someone pleasant approaches
warm the body nice and slow: hurried fire loses passion burns through emotions
sleep under the open sky where clouds resemble symbols of our old ways
the old gods never did talk much but considered every space in existence sacred
blue hour ends when the swallow family circles the field thrice
a strange thing: a moth is only complete when it finds its flame
elancharan gunasekaran 