Wonder, if she can hear
the rustle of these leaves
faintly mixing with my heartbeats!
Her name on the edge of my tongue
Rolling, the melodies of love young.
Is that her?
When the sun knocks on my door,
Or when the spring breeze
Caresses my wrinkled brows.
when on Christmas morning it snows,
is it she kissing me on her tip toes?
is it she? once again beside me.
or just a memorandum of her memory.
is it she?
***
Behind the Window Panes
Long, have treasured thy tears,
lumping down the throat,
I clink them to thy fears.
woe after woe I recite,
feebles of thy decide.
tracing the chasms of these chains,
I dance to thy doubts,
Oh! I dance to its rains.
I taste the clouds,
Chew the thunder
twirling in the rainbow,
Once again I wonder.
The one that carried
the white glow window,
who rode the shooting stars,
in her pocket, dreams of lads
why was this sky,
still stuck behind bars?
***Author's Bio: Shreya Narang is an undergraduate student pursuing honours in English Literature from M.C.M D.A.V College for Women, Chandigarh. She is also a haijin, who hopes to learn and understand the power of words and the wonders they can do.
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