Uncertain lights.

How do you know
which way to go
when all roads
are covered in snow?
The air is foggy
and the light is scattered;
who knows what they shine upon.

Every decision demands
a review, calls for a cross-check
The signs change, the years wear
and nobody cares.

The only rope I hang
on to, is the hope
that one day everything will sort out
and things will be okay;
where the larks of the dark
give way to the light of a new day.

Looking for answers

These questions that call out to you
in the dark hours of nights,
where are their answers hidden?

These roads that have no signposts
where are they headed?

These pages that are yellowing with time
what happens after they decay?

These beams of moonlight that are streaming in
through the gap in the clouds,
what are they enlightening?

These questions that never cease,
these doubts that burn holes in my mind,
can you help me find these answers?

At the cross road.

Standing at the cross-road,
and looking up at the crescent moon
between the lines of electric wires,
I realized how much in sync
the world around me moves with
the world inside of me.

I stand between so many barbed wires
unable to decide which bleeds me,
which binds me, and which sets me free.
The noise of the rushing traffic
from all directions,
waiting for the lights to go green
is so similar to the thoughts
in the mind - waiting, pausing,
and then zooming past so fast
it's all a blur.

Standing at the cross road today,
I realized how the scared, shy girl
has learnt to cross the road
at the ever-so-busy junction.
Someday soon, I will learn to beat the
traffic inside my head too.