We reach boundaries of life, breathless
Under trees and look up at their leaves
And droplet flowers,one by one, in fog

That falls silently off sky shelf on trees
To the very ends of the leaves , droplets
That make their India voyage in a map

A boundary for life, defining contours.
The birds may have reached their end
Of cries, in their wakings from a sleep

Their existence this side of our houses
At the end of sound and start of a sun
When each day a sun is born and dies,

Its boundaries set at the end of leaves
A glint that is born ,lives, is white wall,
An opaque boundary of all experience.


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