Revelations

Widening cracks, leaking
roofs

choked drains in the
courtyard

water logging and myriad

such small things make
rains a pain

there’s no romance in
rainbow

I can’t shape colours of
morning

morning shapes my colour:
I’m the victim of my
views

that shape my head each
day

realities and yoga
conspire

drinks and pills deride
from clothesline

flowers and trees speak
in grey

compost of years oozes no
wisdom

whatever the poetry, it
stinks

idols on the beasts and
cattle

overload the carriage

I can’t deliver the
burden

prostrate and worship

touch the feet,
foolishness

makes me small, frustrate

sitting on the ground

in the dust, degrade

it’s long fog, with
blurred sight

virtually blind, no seer

no revelations