Sun burnt leaves wrinkled, Withered like an old man’s skin, Dogma shrivels minds. ** Burn down the bridges, Divided and conquered cry, Corrupt old men rule. *** Old wound bleeds silent Rejected heart tries to heal, Burn the memories.
Raindrops on leaves drip, A transient impermanence, Expectant earth waits. **
Tomorrow leaves fall, Moist earth embraces the dead, Rejuvenation.
Cherish the beauty, Short life,lifelong memory, In death, renewal.
I haven’t posted much on my blog for some time now. After a long forty day road trip of 9425 miles across USA, I was most probably getting lethargic. Few weeks back I started to write a long short story in my mother tongue Axomiya (Assamese) on my Facebook wall. Well, to make a long story short, after twenty eight episodes and nearly twenty seven thousand words, I haven’t yet seen the light at the end of the tunnel and falling very far behind. To be precise, still traveling hundred and eighty years in the past. I have still a long time to catch up to the present. I took the photograph of raindrops on rose leaves yesterday morning and as I was looking at the photo today, and it’s a gorgeous sunny day today, thoughts that came to my mind were transcribed by my fingers to a set of haikus. Obviously the rust shows.