Let it flow from your veins
As blood
As wine from berries
As strength from a Mother
...
She is going, going
Going into the pink blush of the Earth
The peacock waits
Looks
...
The weather is dry and warm,
On the street, there are dry fruits from Kabul
And Pakistani pomegranates, ruby red.
...
Two Lizards fell
from a tired ceiling
after a warm sunny chase
...
A certain place
With a certain order
Went all haywire
when the weather changed.
...
The highwaywoman came riding
Riding, riding
Upon her black bike
From far, far, far away.
...
She was just a baby,
when
He found Her...
perhaps
...
We burn
like melting ice
on a coal fire.
...
When I write
I place the world
Inside my pocket
And let the pen decide,
...
Roar, roar, uproar
the wind ROARED
above
and beyond.
...