Magic Spell
All those burning sticks
I want to throw back
on the dusty picture at the corner
of the room
where everything is pieced together
in the arbitrary geometry of the shadow,
with a sense of small moments
preserved in between,
creating a new way of making
my faint memory alive.
not forgetting that
the sliced moon ,
dancing on the rooftops tries
to understand and find
at a moment’s notice
that remembers what it means
to reinvent and exploit
the magic spells within
the cotton wool of love,
soaks in withered and white
knots and in folded wings.
So beautiful.. especially the second para I loved a lot.. 🙂
love the last two lines, very beautiful and soothing. Kudos.
Such a rich, poignant poem! Loved reading it.
Lopa.
lovely ….cotton wool of love..and sliced moon …did spell a magic on me
Lovely write, Gopal.
Lovely imagery..and brilliant composition…Gopal ji…
Thanks Sarala and Santosh. Glad that you liked it.
Lopa and Shashikala: I am humbled.
Maya and Rahul: Much appreciated.