Jacaranda morning

March in Hyderabad

Every so often

I wish I were born

In a simpler age

(as if there ever were one)

when one could lose oneself

in the beauty

of the purple haze

offered by the lace-like blossoms

smudged across the blue summer sky

as I battle my way to work

through the emissions

of an information economy on the move.

One wonders

where the sentence breaks

to accommodate the parenthetical pause

for noticing

such moments of transcendence

in the midst

of everything ongoing, never stopping

(lest the traffic lights change on you).

Big words

Climate Change

Global Inequality

Sustainable Development

Communal Violence

are allowed to fade

somewhat

into the background

as the bright yellows

and flaming oranges

of the flowering trees

demand

that we retain

despite those Everythings

a capacity for happiness.

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What are words worth?

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