Where The Good Things Come From
by Shruti Kulkarni



Tell me where the good things come from,
I'll go there more often
For I have to mend my glum
And teach my heart to soften

Come they, from the people I love,
Or from the people who love me?
From a hut with thatched roof above
Or from a church with an unanswered plea?

From the city where I left my heart
Or from the tree I cuddled with?
From the book that taught art
Or from that ancient Celtic myth?

A queue of questions I throw in,
And you simply say, from within.






Copyright 2017 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.