Those times when the heart
Does the hop, skip, and jump
Over chasms where the possibility
Includes lava flowing incessantly
But there isn’t a single clue around
No hisses, no fumes, no heat waves
Not even birds giving the game away
By their indecision and silence.
It is as if God was reading a thriller
While crafting these special times.
My life, it seems, is stuffed with paths
That seem to zig-zag over these chasms
And during times when peace reigns
I pick up a thriller to read.
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Arvind Passey
Written on 25 April 2019
