In Ujjain:
“You choose to paint
as the cover of the book
a picture of your heart,”
I almost asked him to confess.
No words replied
he only sighed
a soft and thoughtful “yes.”
* * * *
A little boy
in short pants
is walked home by his father.
Side by side, closely
they walk.
His father, a golden, glowing saint,
holds tight his son’s hand.
The boy glances up
and fears nothing
He is not alone
on the path home.
Yet the sun is setting
as it must.
The boy will cry
as he must.
But he will walk on
and w
