self-healing
The yellow and brown leaves of chinar settle in on the windowsill like a jigsaw puzzle that needs to be solved. They are dead, useless, and soundless until the autumn breeze tickles them to fall on the ground, get mixed with soil, and nourish the tree they were once part of. I am trying to solve the jigsaw puzzle of my life where certain regrets fall on the windowsill of my conscious mind, and I am waiting for the wind of understanding to tickle them, make them fall, so that they can mix with the soil of peace, and nourish my soul.
evening sunlight
in my wet eyes
no more excuses
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Failed Haiku, Vol. 9, issue 104
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kitchen window
mom’s fingerprints
now mine
----
underground train
the screech
of my silence
failed haiku A Journal of English Senryu Volume 9, Issue 100
mom’s fingerprints
now mine
----
underground train
the screech
of my silence
and a collaborative haiga with Oscar Luparia
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