Speaking Stones

When there was a cloudburst-
it was time- I thought
for the soul search.

Again I turn back to-
our complexity, in religion,
caste and lineage.

The prairie was giving-
way, for a volcano to erupt.
Can there be a drive from the back seat?

A prisoner of one's own
follies, you would wait till-
the sky comes down and liberates you.

The illegitimacy bursts
open, when you claim that
no child was left behind.