The Spirit Waits

I try writing beneath your lips

But you check your smile.

I measure verses in your eyes

Prompting you to look aside.

Your laugh teaches me

How to hear songs of stars

But you fold back your voice

And walk, making me understand

The sound of wind blowing through trees

Tearing them apart.

Your parted hair allows me

To brush through a lane of grasses

Creating a cosmic interim of void

Or a sonic vacancy from outer space.

In that broad chest rumbles thunder and lightning

Striking explosives to burn in me

And blast me again and again

Yet I never end but delight in wallowing

In the interspaces of wound and pain

Waiting forever, for magic to begin

As the landscape of your heart

Becomes a garden of flowers

The soil in which I don't reside

Only a tombstone with no name

To show that you buried me long ago

While I waited and waited

For centuries----- Outside.

By Satabdi Saha

From: India

Website: http://www.satabdisaha.wordpress.com

Facebook URL: http://www satabdisaha@facebook.com