Dust’s ode

From where we stay, there is a long view,

Out through the long corridor, darkened

At the very end, there is light, streaming

Through a million of our brethren, dancing


The lonely man walks in and out,

Mutters a word to himself, in agony,

He stops at the corridor, taking in silence,

Turns to look at us, a fine battalion


We give him attention, day and night,

We have stayed through thick and thin,

As if in gratitude, he doesn’t wipe us off

But only stares at us as we build more muscle


We have stayed long enough to understand,

The workings of his solitary mind,

His brush strokes that evoke emotions,

His genius; but stacks of framed pictures


Once in a while, he walks in a melancholic trance

Sheds a tear or two as he peers at his creations,

One by one, through our empathetic selves

But never did he mop us away, never


Gathering dust is what they call it,

The dying of a connoisseur unknown,

The losing of a life unfulfilled,

But only if dust they knew had life

Precious moments


Sitting by my window side,
Comfortably on my couch,
Reading a book to my brat,
Watching sparrows throw a fit,
For little remnants of grain
Listening to their shrill trill,
Short and sweet and pure,
Looking at them,
Bend their little heads,
Sipping from their earthen cup,
Looking up every now and then,
For a possible hunter
Soon returning to the water,
With singular caution though
Remembering to look up again;
“Is anyone spying me as yet?
Did the curtain move a wee bit?
Or is it just my fearful illusion?
These grains they are so good
Can I just sink my beak in there?
But who will keep an eye on’em?
Did I hear footsteps, one or two?
A hushed whimper of the wood?
Click sounds, shutter bugs,
They are after me you know”
As they muse and mutter,
My brat runs out of patience,
Dashes to the French window,
Pulls the curtains apart rashly
Sputtering a sharp chip note,
They take swift flight
Didn’t even bat an eyelid I
Then dug into the couch in bliss
Closed my eyes for scenes to replay
Wrote these lines in my heart
My tomorrows are richer thus
Thanks to my vibrant todays.