There’s nothing wrong in dreaming when you are awakeReality is brimming with hunger, love and acheThe sky is unsure why the arid moor feels bleakQuaking of earth to lure the narrowness of creekFrom the poem- Sprinkled

When the years are dying in the arms of your life,the earth is in pain moving around the sun.

You are a cool cemetery.You have the sinner’s graveYou have the saint’s earthcollidingYou have all the bedsnarrow as a knife;as if a rally of tombstones to defend death.But you can’t really postponethe inauguration of my burial,can you?From the poem - Few Words to Cemetery

Earth stays in joyWhen we plant a treeBeneath the ground, oh, boy! Roots feel free

No living thing is ugly in this world. Even a tarantula considers itself beautiful

A child can die even in the safest place on earth- its mother's womb!