Monday, August 23, 2010


Sitting on my park bench seat

I saw a child playing with a paper sheet

He folded it once, and then twice

I saw several slices of life as he folded it thrice

They say pre-decided has been each fold

Each crease is living its destiny I’m told

But I was amazed to see the wrinkled mould

As life in a million ways I witnessed unfold

The fist that folds the first love letter

The kiss that treasures promises of a future better

The eyes that hold a thousand dreams

A wedding dress that has happiness stitched in its seams

These I could count on my finger tips

Several were lost by the time they reached my lips

I concentrated hard to remember what I could

I was sure I could carve more sculptures from this folded wood

Before more mysteries I could unravel

My little guide decided to greener pastures travel

He picked up a twig next

Challenged me to come up with a philosophical text

Without a word I surrendered to the master

Complex folds I can understand but twigs offer simplicity I cannot factor

I’m not done with analysing the folds I pleaded

He just smiled the smile of a saint and receded