Someone always comes
To my window, visiting,
Asking for no welcomes,
Yet, all the same questing.

Often, it’s a swallow,
Face always aturning,
Beady eyes to allow
Some impertinent learning.

I have seen a crow
Many times this year,
Eager to fill his craw,
Hungry for a corn-ear.

A squirrel wasn’t shy
To sit upon the sill,
Hurrying teeth to pry
The nutmeat without a spill.

The neighbor’s tabby mewed
In genuine frustration
As the window grill proved
Hard for penetration.

The wand’ring mongrel poked
Through the window grill;
In expectation peeked
Every day like a drill.

But, I never saw an elephant
Stopping at the window;
Yet, I truly did not lament
The tusker’s absent bow.

Until one day, at the window,
Surprised I was to see
The grey mammoth pass below
And, atremble was my knee.

He walked by, though unbound,
Without a touch, a glance or bend,
Without a crunch or sound;
Majestic was his head’s intent!

Now that I’ve seen an elephant
Outside my very window,
I’ve seen all I need or want
And, I’ll stand away, I vow!

Cattails threw shadows into placid streams
Which gleamed at gloaming;
The swan couples patterned heart throbs,
Beak to beak crooning, floating on wavy waters.
From the west oozed a burnt orange blaze, and
The waning red glow silhouetted life’s moments
In earnest molecules and pallid seconds.
In the midst of the angst at the fag end of day,
Between the demented heavens
And the heart-breaking earth,
The struggling soul gasps in each painful breath!

From the shadows I watch through vaulted windows,
My tired thoughts creeping towards the gleaming domes
That mark my love’s rest.
Winter circles my heart that yearns for Mumtaz, my heart, my love!
Alas, my heart lies buried colder under the cold, cold marble
Whose white splendor masks my anguish, my sorrow.
Forlorn I languish, a prisoner in my own Fort—
Once a monarch, I live in the shadowlands
Of memory that flickers and fades.
Spring has vanished from my world and blossoms ceased smiling;
I weep tears that groove my cheeks
And singe and sere my to-days and tomorrows.
Alone I long, alone I yearn, alone I wait
For God’s own time when I will rest along my love
On the banks of Yamuna, under the cold, cold marble!