Poetry: Pramod Rastogi

Pramod Rastogi

The Veil

O my love, the night begins to pale,

Its vibrant hues are slowly fading.

I’ve waited in the hush of dark

To behold you, shy, as you lift your veil.

I long for your gaze to meet mine,

To feel the quiet storm it holds.

A firework in hushed colors might bloom,

And veil the night in wanton smoke.

A shroud of clouds has cloaked the moon.

The night inhales a solemn breath;

The stars suspend their sparkling song

As the moon weeps beneath its veil.

Those tears have drowned the unseen sparks

That never glimpsed the light of day.

She did not lift the veil from her eyes,

And smitten still, I sang like a nightingale.

***

Petals of My Youth

The seasons, once endless in my youth,

Scatter now like petals in the wind,

Their smell a faint echo of flowers

Long befallen to the soil of the past.

Memories lie waiting,

Ablaze in the quiet corners of my heart,

Where lovers once danced

Through fields of unspoken dreams.

Love, in its torment, leaves traces,

A shadow here, a sigh there,

Reflected in the mirror of solitude.

Yet even in desolation,

Companionship blooms,

A fragile flower breaking through the cracks.

For hearts do not forget,

But carry the weight of what was,

Woven into the longing for what could be.

And in the waiting, there is beauty,

A quiet hope, a tender ache,

That love, like spring, will return

To paint the world anew.

***

A Garden Aglow

Life, aglow with fleeting seasons,

Weaves beauty from the threads of sorrow.

In the garden of suffering, spring blooms,

Its perfume a song of resilience,

A melody only love can compose.

Eyes meet, and the flood begins,

Not of despair, but of renewal,

Where hearts find bond

Beneath skies heavy with yesterday’s rain.

Love is the gardener,

Tending the fragile and forgotten,

Turning barren soil into blossoms,

Teaching us that even in sorrow,

Beauty waits to rise.

***

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Setu, September 2025