Jyothy Sreedhar


The cool palm of this rain

drew some sweet picture

on my forehead…


My hair sways along

with the pull of thoughts

about a land so distant

and a heart so dear…


Gone is not gone,

but becomes something yet to come

in new forms,

in new lands,

in new atmos


in the same old mind…


They become

‘thoughts’ for future

than ‘events’ that happen.