When you are stranded
between entrance and exit

He who negates
All obstacles

He who speaks
in the language of Light

I search for
the newfangled light
that mirrors off my walls
and forms
a labyrinth of images

Had I been the wings
of a butterfly
I'd have shattered
the frames
of my glass-house

spring flowers
in the middle of the road
with a cup of chai

my windows
partly open
this winter

luminescent memories
nourish
the idle hours

december
trickled in
stretching the shades

we grow up by the road
feed on pollutants

if you cannot
find me
in this nascent glow
place your hand
on dewy leaves

we play to the tune
of a wintry wind--
spring flakes off

I'm a handicapped dreamer
a suitable decor
for tidy rooms

we no longer need
the sun
for our presence

pull open the door
a hesitant winter
is craving for warmth

he sells greenery
the fuel

fabricating
design of a castle
made of ether

your arms outstretched
like that of frail children
scrambling to get hold
the snapped kites
falling around their dreams

i feed my thoughts with you
in your absence
they stand in a queue
and observe the faces
in my mirror

home
the worn-out face
with a speck of spring
stuck in one corner
of her left eye

pick them up
feel their skin
with your callused fingers
and you will touch
frozen lives

i hear the echo
my name being called
by many people
whom i struggle to locate
through my little window

confined
together with a candle
i wait eagerly
for the bars to open
for fragrance to seep in

i can douse
an active volcano
not the burns
remaining dormant
under the cushion of yellow leaves

i'm parked
on one side of the lane
the dreadful doors
and windows
have jailed me

with every step
i get more accustomed
to hang freely
like a puppet

bring me
a mouthful of love
i crave
to see the end of day
in your arms only