Homecoming becomes pleasant
when I discover butterflies waiting
in the eye

Two little hands catch me like
the first shower of summer rains.

Homecoming becomes meaningful
like buds on the lowered branches
homeyard-guavatrees.

No fog in my mind,
a tortoise in the sunny breeze
moves towards a steady goal.

No competitors around,
only a slow growing-up
in the music of understanding.

RUDRA KINSHUK