SIMPLICITY

Rather I would hear later
The splashing of waves
and chirping of birds.
Someone is shouting through
The box, chattering and promising
To give a better world.

There are too many men-
Selling ice candy, beads, yarn and fabric.
Across the village, beside the mound,
Where women sit and gossip.
Or paint their nails with color
And daub their feet with henna
For ceremonies.

Weaving the stories upon the clothes
With yarn, beads and hope-
They sing the songs-
Of a baby yet to be born
Or the child lost her mother,
Or the neighbor's wife,
Beaten every now and then.
Or about the monsoon of last year.

Giving ear to the "passing by" stories
Of flimsy moments, sliding through thin air,
I'll fill my basket with their small contentment
Reducing the burden of never ending desire.