Lullaby For My Child - Poem by RUDRA KINSHUK
Homecoming becomes pleasant
when I discover butterflies waiting
in the eye
Two little hands catch me like
the first shower of summer rains.
Homecoming becomes meaningful
like buds on the lowered branches
No fog in my mind,
a tortoise in the sunny breeze
moves towards a steady goal.
No competitors around,
only a slow growing-up
in the music of understanding.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You