our footsteps— thoughts in a fog of ice and flame thrashing land’s breath— creating new seed from featherless ashes— new tributaries of thirsty veins rousing Terra— rescuing her from her dark dream of compost and mulch to fructify a new tomorrow
how refreshing those times when the world offroads thru another prism door to refract a breath of newness engendering feelings a child sometimes feels— and for that twinkling I am a kid again
o’er Lavapura sips Rahu a cup of mortality under eyes of Sun and Moon to ears of Vishnu— tho’ behead’d guilty demon his jaws still immortal chase and feed upon the tattlers— soon escapees from his fangs hamper’d slowly in their wake till their slip off Maha’s doorstep renders the full smile of Day