everything falls into place at once.
paperwork. The people. The connects.
the days are a test of patience.
darkest nights not restful but suspect.
moon’s not a tilak on my forehead.
angry sun reluctant to kindness.
purple flowered vine’s gone dry and dead.
one’s at home at the given address.
in the twilight between day and night
something like a footfall on the stairs
a bunch of fireflies in zigzag flight
scent of flowers opening somewhere.
I will wait. I’ll wait and pace the grounds
in time someone will come around.
Patience has never exactly been my forte, but still. Keeping calm and pacing the grounds....maybe if the vine is watered it'll revive?
However, as the most famous independent journalist of India said somewhere - what's crumbled in the last ten years is never coming back. My heart sinks a little every time I think of it.
Hearts are not made to sink though, they are buoyant little persistent things, always finding space to wriggle and rise, to balloon, to beat, to hope.
This too shall pass. Everything passes - the bad, the good, the ugly.
Wishing the good in your week a super slow passage, and the bad a lightning fast one.