Indigo

[Querida]

As old friends, we meet again...

Much has passed between our speechless glances.
Much that sums up how life has been to us.
Much that will not pass our lips in explanation.
Much more that we will feign to keep silent.

For as our strides come to match
and as our memories unravel
in nostalgic streams before us,
the lock of time and due formality
will fade hazily from thought.

And that once so strongly
felt friendship and trust
will beam once more:
now less bright and eager
now less trustful and open.

Nevertheless upon this
floating down childhood
and its glossed and glowing naivete,
the familiar gestures,
the mundanity of each other's laughter,
the comforting close gaze kept for one another,
stand worn well
before the test of time.

[pavalamani pragasam]

Exactly! I've experienced it!

[Querida]

the grass on the other side
doesn't just look greener...

it looks lush and nourishing...
full of dew and promise...
complete and whole...
safe and reassuring...
calm and content...


peering over to the
other side
it's really not that bad...
not lush but not barren.
not complete but insecure.
not content but hopeful.


Ask, so that I can say:

that we
stand on the
same side of the fence
in different places...

though I hardly can believe it myself.

[pavalamani pragasam]

Sagacious!

[Benny Lava]

Ask, so that I can say:

that we
stand on the
same side of the fence
in different places...

Nachhhuu!!!!

[Querida]

drips meet drops
ready for their descent
they wink and cascade
pooling in bubbly puddles below.

eddies of soil edged trails
swirl as if stirred
blooming up like
misty miso soup.

fogged up windows
finger-graffitied
offer thumbprint lanes
of the outside grey.

[pavalamani pragasam]

Descriptive and poetic rainy scene!

[Querida]

The Sun spreads around
Like a warm, fragrant batter.
Buttering up the streets
With its yellow rays of honey.
It softly alights upon
Every verdant blade of grass,
Every newborn bud,
Every sprightly sprout,
Every bloom of blossoming colour.
The wind replies jauntily
Tousling, tussling, teasing...
The sky beams brightly,
The clouds clasp in meeting,
fresh and jubilant.

All dawning their best
to welcome
The Spring Maiden’s Golden Arrival

[pavalamani pragasam]

Pure joy!!!

[Querida]

i chanced upon
the sleeping heads
all tucked up
and never to awake
whipped to the ground
pale blushing pink
turned smudgy-rot brown
their heady fragrance silent
seeped uselessly into the unyielding ground
their laurels un-spread
their petals un-shed
these are the buds
of the windswept
tree-wept magnolia.