The muse

The muse car-pools with me

and is silent for most part of the journey.

It adjusts its gaze occasionally to see

if I am noticing how things can be.

But I am just focused on my ends and

what it all means to me and the world.

It doesn’t disappear yet, it waits

for the moment when the windows darken,

the wipers flail and everything is washed

in the rain, and I observe something

that rings bells: bells of charm and not alarm.

And the inner leaves rustle in a metaphorical breeze.  

The expanding universe

The fact that universe is expanding

has trickled down to me.

It has had no effect on my goings-on

as a normal citizen.

The car works just fine,

the apples still fall to the ground

as they did before and elsewhere.

But now there is a certain unease

when I write that you are moon-faced or

compare you to some other heavenly body.

I would like to expand too and compare you

to the universe and all its complexities.