Volume 1, Issue 4-5 / March-April 2009
As I stand
My hut behind.
Stand still
All pass by.
The wind blows
Air cools, the sky…
As I stand
Stare at the sky
Watching the clouds
Far up high—
Waiting the rain,
The rain fall
After years’ time.
As I stand
Listening the radio
Gazing and
Pausing—
The world counts
Utilize each second
For me—will the rain, eventually, rain?
Yes, at any time
Perhaps—splash of rain
Wash the sorrow clear the pain,
Mend the broken bone,
Fractured in vain.
Clear the fearful tears
That drop for years
In boredom days
Of monotony events.
As I think
And self-contemplate—
What would go in future?
—What goes behind.
Those days of scorching sun—
Would it change to rain
To make our days fine?
As I stand in front of
My house, plastic sheet room
Days born for me gloom
Days grown gloom:
Only hoping slight by
Waiting furiously
Confront the cloud
It is crawl and proud.
Unable to move
Even a walk or step—
Freeze in day-dark
As if nightmare—
No word to utter, I scare
As memory stabbed me;
Leaving untraceable scar,
in the mind.
Stand still, me front,
my house behind.
To breathe the feeling and cold
Make fresh the mind
Joy penetrates to soul
As the old songs make me cool
Made me smile.
As I stand
A drop of rain reaches ground
Sprinkle rain wet our land.