Tuesday, March 16, 2010

This fire of the summer evening,

if it glows like burnished gold

in faces of strange women,

what light must play on Her face!

The koel's song with plaintive notes,

if it pierces like a spear

the hearts of those who are strangers to love,

how deep its wound in My heart!

Monday, March 15, 2010

A quilled evening

Summer clouds gather and gossip
Sordid secrets of a sultry sea.

Wanton wind wanders mad
in search of sweet petrichor.

Golden trees gasp in eternal pain.
Mute Atlases holding up the primal silence.

Dulcet evening smears her golden glow
on every stranger's beautiful face.

Sultry sweat trickles down
flirting with the breeze and skin.

Dusty roads raise dusky sighs
fading into empty footsteps.

All of this stays painted still
in the ripples of my quill.