After the rain ceases to drop
Its drumming sobs
From that surgically opened sky
Beautifully cut, memories fly like angry butterflies,
An old man knocks at heaven’s door
Angels verify his past via their own search site,
The road is muddy and indiscreet
Trapping the feeble footprints,
I cannot trace her mad moves
The air of Kathmandu is vibrant
Acoustic colours and I almost signal the end of a century,
Clouds surround me like bad spirits
Wanting to consume everything,
The earth saddens
Flowers bend down in despair
Rocks crumble
At the coming of uninvited death,
I stare at the tired eyes of my mother
I tell her to wait for a while,
I tell her to wait for a while.

Rain weeps in my sleepy ears.