Well, we delve into a spoken word
To examine spaces between words.
As we speak,a wind sweeps trees
And noisy electric fan stirs a wind
In silence of space between words
Filling it with sounds of the trees.
We speak our minds to the cuckoo
That has got up from mango sleep.
A wind will hurl down raw mangoes
Still a ripe forming stage for eating.
They throw ring of calcium carbide
Making them ripe for market eating.
Well, they are words spoke in peace,
To fill the spaces between our lives.
Like a sea’s hum on midnight beach,
There is background noise in all this
Of a fall of bodies like tiny mangoes,
And wind fills spaces between them.