The streets of the city
Drenched
Wet
Swept
Had so many
Moments fleeting passing...
Children like prefects
Standing quiet
Disciplined
Tied
Neat
Too perfect...
And
Builds
High high
Like sculptures reaching to the sky
Had faces
On windows
Faces old
Watching monsoon gone by as if...
Faces young
In red
Absentminded
On balconies
Crooning songs like...
The city was momentous
But
The moment
Arrived
At the gate white
Of a church
Standing wet
Bright
Greco roman
Like ancient
Yet surprisingly
Unsurpassable
Like
That architect
Who
Once me whispered
On a green field
Wearing
A white tee
Having a sign
'Knowing ,
Is believing...'
Flying off
To catch then
The air...
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