Ocean

Of the Ocean, stories I’ve heard.

The magnitude of which, petrifying.

But so is the sky from here, isn’t?

What makes the Ocean different?

Perhaps it’s the same.

The Ocean could eat me up, they say.

But why shouldn’t I let it?

Aren’t I just a drop anyway?

So, like the river, I flow.

Thirsty flowers and fishes drink from me.

Sometimes, I hop on the back of a twig.

Sometimes, a leaf.

For a drop in the river I am,

flowing with the grace of the undercurrent.

Like the river, I surge,

in deep hunger to merge with my Ocean.

Take Me There

Take me there,

where walls are painted

in colors of dawn and dusk

Not with hate and blood.

Let me live there,

where vines embrace

the walls of my room

Nothing made of gold.

Take me into nothing

Where bodies don’t mean a thing

Nor does color or religion.

There, where lives a zillion stories, unheard

You may come with me there,

where silence overpowers

Only if you promise to be

without a word.

New Year's Eve

I’ve had my share of fireworks and bonfires.

Of midnight greetings and gatherings.

Alas! None drowned me in silence.

None put thoughts to rest.

So, this time around,

I slumbered.

No fireworks. No greetings.

Just like the other night.

Birds and flowers woke up the next day.

Just like the other daybreak.

At the last midnight, what changes anyway?

Other than the date?