Soul Friend

They say each tree grows in its own shadow
But we are strange trees you and me
For I am entwined to you stem and roots;
Someone passing by
Would swear we are one tree
and lose that bet
But my bark is rough and yours smooth
Your leaves are the shape of the heart
and mine the shape of an arrow head

all striving for light

Crossroads Park

At a highway crossroads
Leading out of this City
There is a tiny little park
Where maidservants on their off day
go to meet their sweethearts.
Amidst the noise and dust
the fumes of the passing cars
the shrubs and trees
which might have otherwise been beautiful
are coated with thick dust.
Intimacy is brewed and thrives here
every sunny Sunday afternoon,
and one passes by without taking notice
only once in a while an estranged heart such as mine
stops to wonder with admiration
how this love thrives and holds its own
in this noisy, dusty and soulless city of ours.

The Sleeper in the Plains.

In the scanted plains where dust blows

where smooth barked acacias cast rickety shadows

and thistle and thorny weeds thrive

It is a vast plain wrought with silence

_____

A jumbo Elephant lies on its side

with the back of its ear bathed in red mud

he sleeps with teary but hard shut eyes

stretched out on the thorny ground

silent on its red bed – gathering throng of flies

______

The piercing heat does not twitch his skin

nor the flies set his tail to task

He is having a nap like someone with a broken heart

Might take a nap – unmoving

He sleeps in the sun Tusk-less

There are two red holes in his snout