Spring in Bangalore

They take pieces of my heart and run away
Leaving it old, wise and gray-
Like it will weather the storms better
But will be quieter in the spring

Haiku

A wildflower wilts
In spring’s bountiful meadow
Mysteriously

The earth, bashful
Turns away from the sun
But can't resist his closeness

Come as the spring
And I will be a flower
Blooming at your tiptoe

Holding you close today, I realized my heart hasn't been smothered by savage circumstance. It isn't the mute machine carrying me into the next moment.

Its soil is still moist and fragrant - love can still blossom here.