Beneath The Quiescent Raga

Drowned in the esthetical

Translucent mirage,

The bud yearned for the 

Habilimented dew.

The night evanesced 

To let the dew buss the bud.

Conjointly, they blossomed,

Blushing as the light 

Agaped her wings, impinging

On the petals and sepals.

They verve to transform, 

Becoming the cynosure 

For the morning raga 

To susurrate its notes 

In quietitude.

Joining the chorus were 

The Robins and the blackbirds. 

Slowly, the dew adsorbed,

Comme il faut, the fragrance.

Her esthesis rustled, ensnared 

By the onlookers. They pizzicatoed

The flower, to sense datum her 

Bouquet. She squandered her 

Essence as the flower heaved 

One parthian sigh, 

Dusted in the same dust.

By Orbindu Ganga

From: India