The Red Sand is Blue

The sand lacks its fire and burn,

The red sand is blue,

From the tears and rainstorms my eyes have borne.

The Ashoka trees have lost their dance and seem to have nothing to gossip about.

Dragonflies have no business today, and the sand mites are mournful,

So still I can see them now, but they no longer bite.

The breeze is loud, the wind is silent.

The news the air carries is heavy to breathe in.

The Sun is in full glory or mockery.

The compound feels as if orange were a place,

But the red sand is blue.

The laws that govern the world must be asleep,

Because how are you not at the front door waving and smiling to welcome me?

I am stuck staring into the abyss that are your eyes in the countless pictures in your living room,

But you were not there.

The house feels hollow, its filter is obscure.

This reality that once held you is now a quandary,

Unrecognizable, and it unsettles me

I can only hope to see you in my dreams

And hear you laugh when I tell you

The red sand is now blue.