Trial

Huts

A frustrated architect
With frustrated means
Built a small yellow hut on the sand
Where the sun beamed warmly
And the tides swelled gradually
But the days grew dark
And monsoon rains pelted
Swallowed and razed
That tiny dream that stood
Like an instant in a lifetime
But the architect was content
That his prototype could be realized
And searched for another place
To start his true endeavor.

Mother’s Shade

I did not realize
That eternity
Was built
On the backs of people.
And took for granted
The loved ones
Providing shelter
To one like me.
If only I had told
Of my gratefulness sooner
And learned how
To architect my own.