Fossilized frictions boiling down to
an avalanche of flaring fireworks,
nulled into a concord sweet-bitter fruition,
the soul’s only nutrition is this
petrified palpable partition;
Momentary soul a Swallow passerine ,
circling now with grace and swift,
shallows not but in the
tallest skies in a full and dive freestyle .
Ever the soul, now and before,
stirred to the core by
the solitude’s severity,
Self-righteously fleeting in the bright
clown zone of boisterous calamity,
Markedly dark and stark like a
silhouette of guilt, all in sorrows;
Descendance dotting down to a
mere mechanical monotony of
hustles and tussles lifelessly,
or an ascendance of a steeping melancholy,
Groaning souls in solemn infirmity,
Brutally burnt out of the inertial dysphoria !
Distant flickering
in the twinkling twilights
Mistaken identity
due to farther sights,
Luminosity at its undoubted display,
Shimmering luciferins-
eye catching and blinding ,
Yet heatless and harsh less
Only with the welcome warmth .
Is it the swarming glow-worms or the
Countless eyes of the watchful soul?
Fireflies’ flirty glows not the want,
A single sparkle of good soul enough.
Lack of a cuddle, may be a Coolidge effect,
Not of supple flesh but of the tempered souls,
Makes the throbbing prayer even more ardent.
To the glorious surprise of the grandeur soul
The glow is that of that watchful soul,
No more pains in these sleepless eyes,
No more strains on the stressed up soul,
Green pastures for all the ruptures and toll;
Sudden springs of sweetened dreams,
Merging with the grounded realities,
Let this continuum be not torn
For the hapless soul will go forlorn ,
Call it life savers or showers of Zeus or Indra,
Burnt out soul is now in inertial euphoria!
The poetic equivalent of watching, and becoming fascinated by, a stray feather in the breeze.