Speaking Stones

When there was a cloudburst―
it was time― I thought
for the soul search.

Again I turn back to―
our complexity, in religion,
caste and lineage.

The prairie was giving―
way, for a volcano to erupt.
Can there be a drive from the back seat?

A prisoner of one's own
follies, you would wait till―
the sky comes down and liberates you.

The illegitimacy bursts
open, when you claim that
no child was left behind.

Satish Verma