The high tide br Washed away my footprints br On the beach br br I gazed br From atop br A rock… br br What will it take br To wipe clean my mind, br Of passions that br Arouse and hound? br br More than a wash cloth, br I used, to clean the slate br As a child, br When some one scribbled br That I didn’t like… br br I wish br I could unplug br The power supply br that feeds on my mind... br br Recall, how I would br Hide in the folds br Of my mother's saree br When a storm raged br And lightening struck, br feeling safe. br br I know, this too br Shall pass. br After a stone is thrown br in water, ripples do settle. br What would life be br If one didn't grow, br And learn to go home br to oneself...