We light the candles of hope
under the peepal tree
Will the wind behave
And not flicker them?
Caged in our eyes and hearts
Is the full moon;
Does it stop escaping
often into smoke ?
Dry leaves should describe us well
As trampled as them we are ;
Breaking often into shreds
Disconnected and burning out in hope.
1 comment:
Beauty. The power of hope is such! I loved the comparison you made of our lives to dry leaves!!
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