People come, people go.
People come, people stay.
Many have stood and gone.
I been through to them.
One came, penetrated
And went away.
I sat waiting,
She never been back.
One day, I stood
And came out.
Now I see, I had stood, at
My through to this present.
I thought she was in me,
But in her I stood.
When I came out, she was there.
And she is my through.
-Jatri
Once I fell for you.
The more I tried to heal,
Deeper these wounds grew.
More I ignored,
More I became concerned.
And more I cared,
They started expanding.
Caught between heart and mind,
A kind of obsession grew.
Prone were my thoughts,
Victim was my freedom.
With my wrecked will,
I was deeply tangled within. And
To revert back, I decided to be still.
About them I didn't care,
Didn't ignore nor tried to heal.
And one morning I was back,
With no obsessions.
Healed were the wounds,
But the scars persist.
Those I could never abandon.
-Jatri
Amidst hub of green trees,
By the side wall,
A dry tree stood.
All the leaves of hope lost,
Stretching it's withered limbs,
Against the taunt of other
Green blooming trees,
It stood firm and sturdy.
Though withering, it's desperate.
Lone but resolute,
Battered but still resilient.
Amidst hate, patiently,
It was raising above hate.
This evening it held me,
May be because,
While I was finding myself in it,
I was learning something, from
This dry tree, that is hiding its roar
And standing docile.
-Jatri
