Love-making and Midnight Poetry

 

Deep like her expression, like her lip

like the darkness around her?

like her hair, flowing into the abyss of her apprehension?

like the depth of that abyss that threatens to engulf her reality?

like her gaze, staring into that very abyss contemplating whether it’s worth it?

like the reality that just refuses to let her be…

and like the dreams that never really let go..

and like her nightmares that she misses in her wakings…

And like the steps that she misses while unravelling her hair from her dreams..

and like those bits of her lost in morpheus’s heart, forever, yet never!

like a lost nebula, in sight yet to be seen, never..

like the depth of creation before it was created…

and the light of the sun before it had a name..

and the warmth of the moon before it was loved…

and the shroud of the clouds before it cried rain..

and the drops of rain before they made love with the earth…

and the sparse smile of the earth before it flowed forward in melody..

and the melody that never ceased…

that only breathed to increase..

and exhaled to give life…

in that lilting strain, flowed her swaying mane..

she danced insane, again and again…

one soul as the earth when it flowed with the rain

running long with the time and her train…

forevermore to accuse us of fiddling with her brain

asking her why walk, what has she to gain?

when the depth in her eyes wins out over the pain..

her bright black eyes lit the moonlight in vain…

searing the night with her gaze untamed..

all she does is look out for her life, left in death…

her waking, left in dreams un-said..

she spoke in soft tones, her legacy essayed….

 

– Shakya, Upasruti

Inspiration: Pratyusha

 

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