All night…
it kept cutting into my sleep
blowing bubbles at my eardrums
slipping storms under my lids
cooing like a baby
meant to be born of me…
All night …
it kept posting me letters
on stolen crumbs of paper
crimson, saffron and ochre
from a nameless love
with a faceless gaze…
All night…
it kept ringing
this song I know but don’t know of
in a voice so mine, but never heard of…
All night,
it kept arranging itself on me,
newborn notes on a musical string…
it danced,
made faces,
made me smile
and sing
this happy poem of my own...
it rivered and swam
snaked and soared
it drizzled like dew
it snowstormed too
and then turned molten
to rip me through…
All night
It teased,
tickled
and tingled at my sores
this poem in the womb
which, at the first ray of dawn
for no reason at all
turned back and slipped again
into the arms of the unknown.
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अमलतास का गीत
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Dear balpreet
ReplyDeleteA sheer beauty! I am into so much of prose these days that I want to change this body with people like you who are still writing poems. How lucky you are! Still writing poems in this insane world. Had you been before me, I would have expressed my gratitude! Where are you these days?