Healing

Every wound is indebted.

A handful of saltwater heals it.

Tree or sky – anything can give a coating to it.

Yet the wound survives agelessly,

to repay the debt.

Crossing over

In the moist evening, when a person crosses the river alone,

the ferryman knows, in the pretence of helping the person

cross the river, he himself is making a journey from one life

to another.

The End

When a person crosses the bar,

becomes a sinner.

In the dark evening, the road I am walking on

is full of dirt.

The evergreen forest gets burnt

when there is no love.

Hunger and thirst remain at the end.