She fell from the stars….

She fell from the stars,

Right into his life,

Who says miracles dont happen,

An angel loved a man,

For what he was,

And he loved her,

The imperfectly perfect she,

Do forms matter,

Do souls seek each other by physical,

Or is the energy that attracts,

He had always asked,

That day he got answers,

She fell from the stars,

And stayed forever…..

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Water

As the water flows down her,
Every crevice, every canyon,
The villages on the way,
The abandoned and the young,
Fields of sunflowers,
Deserts too,
The simmer shine of the sun,
The dark of the marshes,
The hot springs,
Quick sand too,
The water flows down her,
And inside her,
To spaces untouched,
Unexplored and unreachable,
The places she rarely goes,
Or goes too often,
A little girl maybe,
Or with hair turned grey,
The water flows,
It rarely stops,
Ice to stream and then the mighty ocean,
Water learns as it goes along the way,
It changes its way sometimes,
Sometimes turn mountains to dust,
It is not the outside that matters,
It tells itself everyday,
Each day it starts,
A new adventure,
Maybe a new colony to civilize,
And as water flows down her,
She realizes,
She is like water,
Or maybe she is water……

Yesterday I Saw Her…….

Yesterday I saw her, 
Drenched in the morning drizzle, 
Yesterday I saw her, 
She was thinking, 
Not looking,
Just walking, 
Yesterday I saw her, 
As the tarmac stick to her shoes, 
The shirt that was a bit loose, 
Yesterday I saw her, 
And she walked as the skies turned greyer, 
The clouds growled louder and laid their chest open bare, 
Yesterday I saw her, 
She needed no one, 
Or maybe it was the with her, 
She sailed through the freefall, 
Of the thousand microneers, 
Yesterday I saw her, 
And saw her near, 
The winds had guided our little vessel, 
Onto the lands of the sun, 
The moon and beyond, 
Yesterday I saw her, 
As she walked away, 
Slowly diminishing in the growling rain, 
I sailed a boat in her direction, 
Hoped that it might reach her, 
Boats of paper seldom reach, 
The oceans wide and blue, 
But who could take that from me, 
Yesterday I saw her……. 

Where are you?

Dear Miss yet to come,

How are you? It’s been a long time since I wrote to you. Seasons have changed, the birds have flown from their nests, the old dilapidated house at the corner, remember? That couldn’t stand longer. It fell down. Everything’s been fine with me lately and I hope with you too. But we are too humans and as humans and the perfect law of nature, we change.

I don’t know why there is this feeling inside me that’s not letting me do anything. Usually it doesn’t make its presence felt. But when it does, I find sadness in almost anything. And you know how I rarely get sad, a little too emotional yes but rarely sad. Even the guitar lying next to me doesn’t inspire me to play it and get over it, the writing pad too, just growls at me with this I don’t know, a face that just doesn’t seem friendly. I sometimes wonder what it would feel like to share with you all this in person when you are lying along me in the open sky and wondering why the stars fall, who holds the moon up in the sky, why does a doughnut have a hole, or maybe why our hearts beat so slow when we are together. Remember the day, when you were sad about something that you didn’t remember. It’s something like that. The funny thing about it is that, how much I try to avoid it, it just comes bouncing back. The only thing sometimes I need is a your touch and not just physical, the intimacy we shared, mind, space and later the body that really was just another tune that we together create. I don’t know what’s difficult. Waiting for you or this thought that there is somewhere you as well, maybe waiting for me. Or have you found someone too good……

I wish you have that palm for me so that I may fill it with sometimes my hand, the flowers that your body absorbs so spectacularly or maybe sometimes this universe, our universe, our little world….

Waiting for you….

With lots of love.

Kumar Harsh