Grace of the moment captured in that soft, cool breeze sweeping past ones face,
Rippling all that it cares to touch, almost the entire existence.
Grace of the moment scattered as pocketful of sunshine,
I come to visit that small green patch, lined with erica palms, and the ungainly sweet neem tree.
It's tender leaves respond to my touch as if playing with me.
My friend and me, we also flutter by those potted dots of yellows and reds.
He is adrift in the open sky,
setting his sail to nowhere.
The upside down world misses him,
But he doesn't seem to care.