But you can always look up
At your corner of sky
Through glass
Between grills
Framed by concrete
And touch infinity
This kept me alive
In back rooms
And corner offices
A single stream of sunshine
A streak of rain trailing down a pane
The smallest whisper
Of eternity
You can even see stars
Gathered in potholes
Green is always lurking
Behind the grey
And the wind still sings
If you really need
To hear
Jayaprakash Satyamurthy lives in Bangalore. He writes various kinds of corporate content for a living. He also writes fiction. He plays the bass guitar for a band and he and his wife Yasmine work for causes they believe in, support hordes of cats and dogs, and each other’s many dreams. Jayaprakash also maintains a sporadic blog at http://aaahfooey.blogspot.com