And numb …under the orchid
I had awaited your steps since dawn
here you return …when the sun is about to set
When forgotten are promises
Lost are desires ,buried under the soil
The urge has vanished
and I motionless & still
stare at you…
The sun sets with a dab of crimson. It was all scarlet like my blood.
She cleared the mist with her fingers etching the outline on the glass. The wintry night had left an envelope of thin layered fog on the window pane. She stood there every night after her dinner watching the lone moon hung in the sky. The moon wasn’t visible today and she was wiping the glass to have a glimpse .
The breeze knew the heartbeats of her soul and carried the message of her silent yearnings to faraway land of dreams,where dwelt the twin part of her soul.
Wasn’t it so unworldly, pocketing treasures in the casket of nature and reliving the moments at peace? Nothing mattered as long as the moon was visible to both ends of the world,they lived, breathed and felt the urge to communicate through the dancing waves of morning and night breeze.
How often the nightingales sang and the butterflies danced? Her eyes sparkled and knew the message was through.
Beyond several seas , the orchid had bloomed .
When left “I”
‘the life’ in a split second
From the door of the body to heaven
Where did I get lost in between,
O ! lord !
Was ‘I’ a body with a life
Or a soul imprisoned in flesh of being?
Where was I ?
Who was I ?
Amidst the melee. I didn’t hear any sigh..
What was my name ?
What am I named?
Is it the same,
as I lose
when burns my effigy,the form of five elements created by thee
Where will I go and traverse?
is it the The cosmos
or The astral ?
what’s the journey ahead,O thee!
hold my finger and take !
Ravishing, the tender filaments ,
those which tie the twin souls
often swayed which
in breeze of amor
dipped in pool of sacred nectar…
unraveling the knots of past and present
which were long forgotten
vis a vis ,the flames of destiny
burning on the candle of verve …
Who knows thou! sings the baul
his fingers struck the single chord
the solo of duality , he hums
in remnants of the grief stricken
some old souls, few shattered and broken
Oh ! does it require to be a tatterdemalion
or a ramshackle old pier
to whisper the tunes of eternal weather
while plays the
impulse of seeking the invisible
or knowing Him through
the world visible…
The rampant hunger and
lingering thirst arrives wherefrom
in the arteries of singing legends
is it necessary to be in a deplorable condition
to call and cry for
the cosmic creator!
why forgets the mind of many
bask who in sun of pleasure…
its going to be dark soon
whence shall it find the light for right direction?