Light Sound Rain

We bade farewell to-
eternal waves on white sand,
rhythm of hues on seashells,
a lonely heron among seagulls,
rows of sprawling palm trees.

Rest of the sunset was
lingering on the blurred horizon.
We had to rush for home before
heaven burst into sound.
Defying our predictions,
water was poured upon us.
We stopped at Tampa Bay
for Cuban Sandwiches and red sangria.
Music just started a few black women.
They lit up the night brighter than
collisions of million clouds.
We froze those moments
by drinking and dancing.
We came home happy.

Colors Of Tears

Water is clear, so is a mother's tears.
She is burying her favorite son in-
Homs, Beirut, Baga, Paris....
every day in every corner of home.
Sun sets without a promise.
Cold wind whispers without a whistle.

I didn't cry for her tears.
I was busy in a coffee shop
telling others stories of-
colors of tears,
shadows of unequal deaths,
politics of asymmetrical humanity.