Skulking deep within the recesses of my heart
Many a dreamlet sleeps.
Tiny pleasures in ample measures
Having a blast around that streamlet still gurgling
In the dark alleys of time.
Hush, I hearken to the frenzied footfall of spasmodic time
Creepy, saw-toothed, mischievous faces
Traces of juvenility sleepy?
Rambunctious kids skidding through summer days.
My heart simmers with those embers
And remembers.
Those games in the month of June!
Off-key songs crooned under the indulgent moon.
A surrealistic fusion or a confounded confusion?
Vestiges groaning under the debris of time
Rub sleep kinks from their eyes to rise.
Twirling and drifting,
Swirling, and shifting
Gifting me
A rebirth.

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About Santosh

An educationist with a passion for writing , having published some novels for young adults, some essays and some poems. My poetic biography of Mahatma Gandhi will soon be published .

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