A curved heel,
A poised back,
Faces from paintings on the old walls,
Walking the land from before your time,
In a life lived, not performed.
Pillars that sigh against skin
Grass that falls under feet
Gold that touches only them
Open flowers in a closed fist
Open green over sheen and shine.
Fall in and step out, of hard soil and broken grass
To a quiet inch, Split the air with laughter,
Earth angels that guard their home.
THAMBURATTI.