But Then

A tear on her cheek

I thought to wipe it away

But then she did it.


Force of Grace

And this same fury, this sin-thrashing storm

Is the tempest that bows to wash our feet.



A golden leaf tumbles

To the ground

The first of many.

The harbinger of the waning

Of the warm life of summer

Of the brightness of days.

A step closer to winter,

And a step closer to spring.


Would we be the pine,

Would we be the cypress?


Faces and Names

I forget the many faces and names

In this new sudden community

Of learning.

In Asia.

For the World.


A buzz of excitement –

New and strange faces,

Colours, clothes, accents, hairs.

“Hi have we met?”

In lifts, halls, corridors, chairs.


So many, so many

Friends to make, stories to hear,

Laughs to fake, conversations to steer.

Any enjoyment was soon marred:

“Go, go, don’t lose out.”

“Come, come, don’t miss out.”


No time for silence,

No allowance for solitude.

Hide your insecurities

Behind vacuous smiles

And over-compensate

With over enthusiasm.


But I will stop –

And introduce me to myself again

(“Hi have we met?”)

Lest I forget as well

My own face and my own name.