To the Evening Breeze

When I unbolt the terrace door,
He enters quickly, greeting me
With kisses on my cheeks and hair
As if a friend who'd longed to see
My face for countless centuries.
As night begins to blacken more
And, ray by ray, the moonlight flees,
I settle on the window chair
And grab a book. Then he comes too
And reads the tale before I do.

He loves to ring the bright wind chimes,
Flick draperies, skim by each leaf
Of our Neem tree that waits all day
For his cool touch of sweet relief.
But out of everything, he likes
The top floor's balcony. He climbs
There, chitchats with the plants, or strikes
The hanging clothes—a rare ballet
For father, ma, and me to view;
A lustre finds our lips anew.