Stand and Stare

My life is running ahead of me.
I stand and stare.

I see her in bits and pieces

like a pause between two chapters.

She is in the mosaic of shade and light

along the tree lined pavement.

Or on the wings of a green parrot,

atop the mosque minaret.

Perhaps in a cozy nest of the bulbul,

tucked in a niche of the stone wall.

My life is out there.

I stand and stare.

She is in this tangy wind

that carries the flavour of far off lands.

Or along the watery edge of the sea,

shining on the horizon.

Sometimes she sits on an orange kite,

flying high above the golden beach.

My life is out there.

I stand and stare.

She is in a narrow sheltered lane,

alongside busy streets.

Or basks somewhere on that bridge,

across the mangrove islands.

She waits quietly

under dancing shadows of date palms.

My life is out there.

I stand and stare.

Behind the see-through silk curtain

that connects me with  the open sky,

She looks out for new stories,

hoping to make myriad memories.

At times wrapped in the tight weaves

of a fragrant baby blanket,

my life is out there.

I stand and stare.


*Photo Credits : Krish Nair