The busy city life rushes on the streets,
While you and me search for silence,
On several walls I have seen our faces,
In pictures of Radha and Krishna.
You have always stayed the same,
Mysterious, gentle and a little aloof,
While I want to bare my whole life,
Losses and gains, joys and sorrow.
Spring has been delayed, waylaid,
By a crook who loved a million jokes,
Letters and symbols and words,
But never your soul that you gave.
The wait for the spring has taken,
Leaves of time from your life,
While Radha and Krishna swing,
Sing and cuddle in the pictures.
The years won't come back again,
But hope is hidden in words of loss.
Friday, May 22, 2009
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