This teenaged daughter...

Verse-hair braided with fairy lights
crafted nonchalance dripping
in the pitter-patter of footfall
accidental and deliberate —
I look up
there’s the assured light
from the geometry of windows
but she will put the staircase to work
with or without warning
as I may have too
in her fairytale days  
and my absent years.

For M, again

There’s something citric about you
something king-coconutty too
flavors and colors
were all the fragrance there was —
cuts through enormities
grinds to a fine powder
time’s voluminous harvest
calls forth a history
or just a word
such as what swirled around tongues
rested delicately on lips
so fragile
not even a thousands kisses
could displace.

Agrarian Song

At the edge of a feeder-canal
the ghosts of mee trees felled long ago stood
and as though nudged by an andaheraya
remembered by one and all at once
released rustling melodies
which duly reincarnated
as bleeding fingertips;
delicately lifted the paddy field
rolled it all the way to the tree line
heaved up upon a collective shoulder
and to the heartbeat of a resilient land
marched straight into the pages of tomorrow —
such things are possible on wind-shredded mornings
bringing news of resurrected optimism.