
Shall we dip our brush
in the deep blue dusk
so we may paint joy
we stole from
the passing day
before it grows dark?
No, I think I would rather
wait for the red sun
to draw bright rays
across our canvas
and let them dry
into permanence.
© Neetu Malik
life spills . . .
forming red rivulets in sand
in the vast desert
man’s fury against man
reasons I do not understand
spring has come
and gone
summer breeze nudges
dense foliage to dance
they said to remember crawdads
asked me to listen for their song
when my heart was heavy
and my sorrow dark
Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythms and the beat of the human spirit. She draws upon diverse multicultural experiences and observations across three continents in which she has lived.
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Beautifully composed and delivered Neetu!
Thank you, James! Your comment is very appreciated.