Evening Breeze
by

It blows softly
through a transient
heaven in my heart.
It brings the smell of
soap-suds. Portrait of a
nude damsel gets visible
on mind’s canvas. Soon it
brings the fragrance of incense
smoldering in a prayer room. I
sin and purge myself in the same
breeze. As I lie fatigued, my spirit
revives in the wind. Sweat gets dry.
A secular wind. Holy chants of people
in diverse creeds flow merged in the breeze.
It passes, patting everybody, yet nobody sees.

First printed in The Literary Hatchet.

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