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A collaboration over too much coffee.
coffee and pen

23 December, 2004


At times I feel like the princess
Imprisoned in the stony dark

But sometimes I feel like the prince
Beside the Ahalya freshly released.
Looking out into the new sunshine
Our gaze invents colour:
Green for the new grass
Blue for the sky
White for the clouds
Whose dark rain we have stolen...

And we speak,
Our words like dewdrops
Glitter in the timeless dawn.
And through the open window we hear
Floating in the morning breeze
A few soft notes
In Ahir Bhairav.

In response to Ahalya below