The Home And The World

A starched saree
Lay unfolded
In the almirah
Awaiting its turn.

The lush green pasture
Looking helplessly for the sheep
The herd in silent hunger
Graze on.

A ship sails,
The mast hoots
The king bellows
The sailor afoot.

The missing compass
In the dead of night,
Pulling away,
“Far North” is yonder
They Say.

Trust – a gentle word,
Jealous lexicon harps a war
Sombre is her eyes with tear
Broken pieces of mirror,
Lie unattended in rear.