Nothing like the cool
morning sanity of leaf
to remind you
green is the colour
of borrowed time.
Give thanks
for the strumpet apparel
of rhododendron,
the rococo benediction
of fern,
the exquisite courtesy
of palm,
a single
bleached
octave
of
undefeated
intent
that never litters its wisdom
on unsuspecting heads.
And acknowledge always
the inevitable peepul,
old sentinel,
trusted witness,
for confirming yet again
that it’s not about justice,
just weather,
just waiting.