Jasmine, Maple’s Cold, and Sleepless Days

Jasmine, Maple’s Cold, and Sleepless Days


Is it strange to write about nights without sleep?
Along with misty rain, I arrived in maple-scented wind.
Eyes weep, seeking the jasmine smile of home,
Here, silence falls softly like the snow.

The bells of temple once whispered sacred time,
Here, the streetlights stand in silent chill.
Thoughts stretch beneath tender mango leaf shade,
The body still waits for sleep beneath a foreign moon.

No cries of crows reach these skies,
The moon here sings in a language I don’t know.
At dawn, peace unfurls like a silent prayer,
Where the heart rests, the body too finds comfort.

GR kaviyoor 
(Canada , Toronto)
05 08 2025

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