I owe all of my poetry to the influence of Pablo Neruda. Reading him 10 years ago on the beaches of Goa, gave me the permission to be who I am and write what I feel. My poetry has never been the same after that. All that I write is an offering to Neruda.
Each flower so bright and beautiful Moments so specially spent We walked hand in hand Through the tranquil serene land With the melody of nature Benet the Rainbow bridge After the Rainstorm Each flowers honey we suckled Giggles turn to
I gazed upon the northern star, Fixed with no intention of moving. I then turned and fixed my eyes, Upon the ice-set stone face, Which rather glowed with wisdom instead of wickedness. “Your time has come”, his voice deep and