SHORE OF MANY SEAS
Memories of spaces left behind
have no mirror images nor
are they etched on skins and bones.
The world, a huge glass bowl.
Fugitives from the past- scattered
rose petals on a fluid existence.
At best an amber case, made
to measures polished , furnished
to entomb a lifetime of desires.
Converging boundaries across waters.
Wind changes, storms, hail stones.
Shifting positions on water margin
where properties are neutralized.
Differentials smoothen out
with the unburdening of ego.
Waves under feet as pure as
the virgin waters of kanya kumari.
My soul cleansed, spirit lifted,
I live on the shore where many
seas meet, clinging
to nothing, belonging to all.
The southern most tip of India where the Arabian Sea,the Indian Ocean