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June 12, 2012
tags: ,

When mornings smell like burnt wood

When noons like coconuts afloat

And nights like rotting leaf

I know it’s time to go home


When the air sounds like smoke swirling up the sky

When the water, like in a hurry

When the earth, like in search of food

The fire, like death, slow and waiting, on desolate nights

I know it’s time to go home


When the birds sing all day

The bees stuck in the web

The dead traces of earth worms on my path

And I know it’s time to go home


When the door speaks gently

The windows flutter like crows

The floor begs for warmth

I know I am home.

8 Comments leave one →
  1. July 16, 2012 22:06

    Miss our interaction on twitter. Hope you are well. I have a versatile blogger award waiting for you on my blog. Congrats

    • August 8, 2012 23:28

      Thanks again dear anita πŸ™‚
      Am slowly getting back !

  2. August 8, 2012 15:57

    What a beautiful poem! πŸ™‚

  3. Dhruva permalink
    September 12, 2012 08:49

    Touches a chord among lots of readers, I’m sure. Brings back beautiful, vivid, personal memories of childhood vacations. Wow. πŸ˜€

  4. December 21, 2012 16:56

    Beautiful, beautiful Soumya. I could see every line and hear every sound. More so because I’m teetering on the verge of going home.
    But before we take off for Kolkata: a very merry Christmas and a happy new year to you and your family, from me, D and Chotto-Ma. Holiday hugs and many warm wishes πŸ™‚

    • December 21, 2012 19:07

      That’s so kind of you, Pia. Thanks. Hugs back πŸ™‚ Have a wonderful time at home as well as home away from home. May the new year bring more joy !

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