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