Seasons of Grief
As winter ends,
in Kashmir.
God envelopes grief
to overpower the deceitful spring.
And spring eventually
is cut short into summer.
Summer melts
overflowing into Autumn.
And Autumn slows
the coming of another winter.
Human time flows
to and fro in seasons of grief.
But how much of time
is too much of grief?
It rains madly
in every season.
And our boundaries become blurred
as we carry maps of each other.
We cross and sometimes infiltrate
only to see and hide
what is present and yet absent.
With a heart
of remembering and forgetting,
all too many seasons is too much grief.
Unwritten Words
On my shore,
the tides of you
water the absence.
The ripples
storm the moonlight
in-between,
Only to disappear
and appear back
with a fresh breeze.
The musical silence
drowns me like
a resting shipwreck-
before the waves
of the thousand
unwritten words
anchor on a safe surface.