Sunflowers I will plant sunflowers in the hollows we have dug with a rusty spade it is time to pull old roots rotten with dead habit in this neglected garden long-choked by winter’s breath it is time to till the soil let it soak in fresh April rain steam in this year’s sun and exhale pungent fumes until its pores are free to seed new grass and soft beds for my flowers. © Neetu Malik
-
The sign is posted
on the porch
I’ve walked many times
this way before
through seasons warm and cold
but no one appears at the door. -
here we stand
not one Nation under Godfragmented under
a heaving flag
weighted down
by broken partsshredded by knives
with rusted edges
blunted, yet sharp
in grievances -
She is
content to be
where she is
between earth and sky
sipping coffee at a black table
in a white-walled cafe
reading a book
but not quite in the pages -
gossamer touch,
mother strokes her newborn–
feathered beginnings -
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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Lovely!
Thank you, Veronica. 🙂
Congratulations, Neetu.
Much in my life has changed since our collaborative efforts, but, it is good to see you continuing your excellent, dare I say, “spiritual” artistry.
Thank you, Mac, for your gracious comment. You know how my poems come to me. I hope to hear more about the change you have mentioned, and I hope life is being kind to you.