Neatly kept letters
Are carefully folded affections.
The ink from the timeless eons,
A personal story of scripted letters
Sent by a beloved narrator.
Early morning Muezzin’s waking call
From a distant Mosques’ loudspeaker
Wakes me up to the scripted jargons of love
I haven’t mispronounced the love
The jargon is my source code—
I live in it.
My time is your recollection,
This dwelling is full of spring
And unchanging.
Expression rains,
The weather of care sprouts
A fresh dandelion.
Why talk about flowers
When they are so delicate?
In blooming flowers
A beloved’s heart
Sways freely and aimlessly
Even when light air
Cares and knows its delicate touch.
The vivid visual of a colorful
Sight of a flower colors life
When life tries to hide away and fade.
Serenity’s fragrance
Emanates from a flower
To love the unrevealing eyesight.
Sushant Thapa
Picture Nick Victor