Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Being with the moon












My mind is brimming with moon tonight
A moaning I sense, without reason
Its light, like a soft cotton pin
Enters, surrounds me
A faint tune
With many brown leaves, falls
I am placed, flat on the muddy welcoming seat
The mourning plays, without meaning
A mesmerizing rhythm echoes in my beating heart,
I wonder if she’s with me
Meandering around, in delight
Perhaps this, I felt before, my body is lying I cannot lift
From this flowing silver grass
I cannot shift
If it’s boon or curse
Who knows, who cares
Who wants to keep a track
The moon smiles at me, I smile back


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