POEMS

When I Took You In

I too am waiting for that moment
When I shall hold the string of the tongue in my hand
And watch it soar to my tugs and pulls, or dip as I leave the thread lax

When you came in at the open door your voice was not familiar
And neither were the words that rolled upon it
But I took you in.
As the sunlight was behind you, 
I could not see your face

All I knew was that you were a stranger

Then I learnt the words that twinkled upon your tongue,
I took each one and pinned it like a moth for dissection
And learnt its every tonality, its every cadence.

You said I had robbed you,
But the sunlight was behind you,
I could not see your face when I took you in

The green of the bougainvillea was behind your still figure
And I could tell you were human
But you, you could see me,
Why then did you ask to be taken in?

Now your words have become mine and you are afraid,
Because you did not take mine in return
When I would have willingly given them to you
You did not ask, because you thought you could see me
So you did not need my words
 

I would have enriched your world with seas and mountains
Rivers and mango groves, cool interior darknesses
And sunsets through the same green leaves behind you;
With the call of vendors over whitewashed high walls and terraces,

And many more images made sound:

These were mine to give
If you had only asked.
But you thought because the light was on my face
You did not need my words
To know the world.