 |
| Sreelekha Chatterjee |
The Splendorous Sundown
Burnished gold of a red sunset,
the last beams hang low,
combing through the grey earth,
while the sky drapes in darker blue.
The sun wedges on the branches—
dead and bare—
as if a thought that refuses to leave,
entangles in the skeleton of my mind.
Inebriated of the misty glint,
the glory ready to die in the eventide,
memories of long-gone days
ring around, like a gust of wind
eddies and sways till a halting
attention serves a home out-and-out.
Peepers closed, the sun deliberates,
while my heart craves for
the scent of sun-warmed grass,
akin to a gale-spent boat
hugging the shore tight.
When the sun does peer,
I will slide open my door,
kindled in the rising light—
the birds will sing on branches green,
bees will hum a soothing tune,
copious flowers in the wind will bloom.
The twilight’s withering gleam
speaks of vernal due,
of lives endowed with
poesy, music, and light,
for every darkness augurs a dream.
A delightful poem, I enjoyed reading it!
ReplyDelete