Can’t wipe it clean,
my vision,
to fathom the girth of
the pillars,
the depth in
those bleary eyes
that watch over me;
I guard ’em too.
But they look distant,
I strain my neck, I can’t see...
The morning mist
smudges my roots
as I fight lethargy,
and a stiff ego,
to look back and capture
the trio shimmer in
the golden yellow
wash of Sodium.
Much before the gold
showered by the sun
reach a shopaholic town,
it’s Onam.
I leave in haste n waste,
as the blurred
image of my genes
remind me of karma,
of honesty,
of the simple beauty in love.
