On a dry parched sunny morning
I send you fresh dew from the lips of a sunflower
A great golden sunflower
Illuminating
Taking the soul for a flight

On a winter sky when the fog holds proud
I offer you my fire
My hands chucking in logs
To keep your heart and soul warm

On a stormy cloudy night I celebrate the stability that is you

His reply to me....

After a long time did I speak to him, the drunken sage of mine…

his madness still had a contagious effect on me…

I wondered whether the hippie in me had taken a sabbatical,

I read through his verses which peeled the dead cells…

rejuvenating a whiff of cool breeze on my face which I wondered was stiff or wet with the dew that oozed with every utterance…

The cubicles dimmed in front of me taking the shape of an unicorn ready to take a leap in the rain filled clouds ready to burst with one more drop in it.


I got showered….