apsara dancers
so quiet and forlorn
at the the corridors
little poem:
under the gentle
ray of the morning sun
the red lotuses
open at morn
reflecting the dew
and close at dusk
so artistically folded
their tips pointed towards sky
devotees in prayers
for another day to glorify Him
the blazing red sun
takes over their place
in a full round
looks at me in admiration
as i walk pass
the lake this breezy evening
lotuses open up a thought
about  the  similarity
between us  -
the gentle steady intelligence
that governs both our life and - death