How do I tell her?
How do I bring myself to tell her?
She’s just a little girl
A bud on a stem of the tree of life
She’s young, innocent
With no impure thoughts
If I tell her the truth
What will she understand?
What will she make of it all?
Death will seem an alien concept
An unfamiliar script
No, she will not take it well
Her mind will wander
Her mind will wonder
She will conjure ideas that may not be right
She may draw wrong conclusions
Yet she is adamant
She is incessant in her appeals
She wants to know her mother
In a way she is like her mother
Fiery, forceful and yet undeniably sweet
I distract her
I avoid the topic
But I wonder if she sees right through my diversions
I wonder; sometimes I wonder all night
How do I tell her?
How do I tell her?

He held her hand
As they made their way
Inside the magical place
Where everything was
A shade of red

The entrance gate was bright red
With a mammoth wall of scarlet bushes
Enclosing the secrets inside
The path was cherry-red and
The grass growing all around was red too
Albeit a darker shade

As they made their way in
Their skin transformed too
It turned as bright and sparkling
As a stone of ruby

Large, tall trees populated the place
And each had a dark red trunk
With crimson leaves and
Dainty red fruits hanging
From its ruddy branches

A swarm of red birds littered the sky
Against the backdrop of a radiant red sun
Hiding behind envious red clouds

“Look there’s a pool there,” she said
After they had gone a little
Deeper into the garden
“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Indeed, it was beautiful
For the pool had glorious carmine water
Settled placidly in its lap
And reflecting the scant sunlight
That fell upon its cheeks

He held her hand
Tightly as they
Slowly marched towards
The pool leaving
Their old, dull world behind

I set up a date
With a woman with whom
I had been flirting
For a good many months
I had come to know her a great deal
We had chatted a lot
Yet I had never seen her face
It didn’t bother me much
She had me, and she knew it
The intrigue was burning within me
I wanted to meet her
See her and experience her
The desire flamed my veins

When the day came
I didn’t groom myself particularly well
I knew she didn’t care about
How a person looked
The soul is what matters to her

I reached the spot early
Too early I guess
Too eager, and perhaps too desperate
For a chance to meet the love of my life
She had decided the time
She always does, she says
I waited patiently for the
Hands of the clock to turn

A young girl walked up to me
She said, “I know you’re here to see my sister
But you can’t meet her just yet
Why don’t you grab my hand meanwhile
And take a walk with me?”

Before I could come up with a response
She grabbed my hand and led me
On a dark, lonely road
We walked for a while
Then I began to tire
My face grew pale and
My blood ran cold
My muscles began to droop and
My body was sapped
She was unaffected
She smiled through it all

I ask her repeatedly if I could meet her sister
She says she isn’t done playing with me
Me and her, we still walk this dark, lonely road
The hands of the clock are turning, slowly

I like to wonder if the sky could hold me
If it could carry my weight in its arms
And fly away
I like to wonder if the oceans could swallow me
If they could churn me in their blue intestine
And then spit me out
I like to wonder if the grass could cut me
If it could prick my skin till there is nothing
More left to prick
I like to wonder if the ghost in the horror movie
That I just watched would come out of the screen
And avenge itself
I like to wonder if I were breathless before I could breathe
If the air fills my lungs with clean oxygen
Or toxic chemicals
I like to wonder about another way of living
Another dimension to add to our woes
Another slice of life
Sometimes I like to wonder
About death
And death alone