Homeless Poem by Chandan Dey

he is
like a stray leaf,
flying and flying,
but never losing
his momentum

others may find it
another wonder.
At least i do.

what is the difference
between two people
who own a house
and one who doesn't?

does the former feel
proud and secure?

today, he has seen
the bubbly warm-stream
transforming ~
into an ice-flow, thawed,
by the mystic touch
of a sorcerer's

through his water-mirror,
he has seen a ship in the sky
upside down, suspended,
in the frigid desert

the blooming jasmine, soft,
in the backyard,
turning ~
into its stony duality

the arcane sun deity
dances on the leaves, sending
an unclear signal

many houses are standing in line—
most of the rooms
of breathtaking opulence
are empty

He stares at those houses like a child
'You may get in trouble, if you become a child here.'
a passerby whispers, and then disappears like a ghost ~
through the narrow passage
of a fog-lane

'Why is time so busy and fidgety? '
he murmurs.

in the distance, he sees a house
he knows that it's a mirage

the clouds of uncertainty are floating

a concealed pendulum,
ceaseless,
is swaying

he,
unyielding relentless,
once again

starts swinging...