We are the valley talahib.
We extend the roaming range
of wild fowl, deer and boar
beyond the thinning forests. Continue reading “We are talahib”
We are talahib
Bamboo shoots
Many years have carved these slopes.
It was around this time in March when
North wind tarried on, defying summer thirst
And a thousand shoots of green rejoiced. Continue reading “Bamboo shoots”
A street child’s Christmas
I woke up in the darkest dawn
And found it was not Christmas.
The boxes were all gaily torn
And colors hid in darkness.
The virgin mothers of my time
Have fought to break enigmas
Of children wrapped in soot and grime
Left lost among the homeless.
But barefoot prophets echo cries,
No hunger shall be endless.
The people glance at eastern skies
And rejoice at sparkling lightness.
I woke up in the darkest dawn
And knew it was not Christmas.
We wake each other now instead
With street songs. Hark! they cheer us.
