Waiting
for you to return
after you say goodbye.

Waiting
for a smile to come
after the tears have dried.

Waiting
to hear “I love you” again
after we end the fight.

Waiting
for the darkness
after turning off the lights.

Waiting
for the dust to settle
after the storm has passed.

Waiting
for time itself
for this too will not last.

They say that life’s
a game and I agree it is –
one – of waiting.

I see the Place from my home.
Six concrete pillars and a dome.
Deserted, it had stood cold and dark
with stray dogs that roamed and barked.

The men now chisel a design like lace
cutting through the rocks with ease.
The sun beats down upon their backs.
They sweat and strain but do not slack.

Slowly, they work on the shapes –
the feet, the legs, the arms, the face.
Then, the stone takes a form.
It has now turned into a God.

The lattice work covers the walls.
The roof with the flagged spire is tall
and lit with little lights that twinkle.
For, the Place is now a holy temple.

As I reflect on what is and was
I wake up to a realization of sorts.
The twists and turns that make our Fate
Are just games Time constantly plays.

Tell me why
stars shine in the sky?
Such soothing brightness
spreads happiness.

Tell me why
birds sing as they fly?
Such mellow tunes
give hope anew.

Tell me why
flowers bloom with a smile?
Nodding in the breeze.
Waving goodbye to grief.

Tell me why
God made Earth and life?
So full of colors
and joy and mirth.

Just to be choked
by his creation – Man
Whose pride blinds him
to all the wonders divine.

Pity not the blind or
the deaf who cannot hear
But those who surrounded by beauty
fail to see it bright and clear.