Fall unto me
To my hard parched crust.
Bereft of you
I am amorphous dust.
Where else shall I go?
To you I shall longingly cling
With a helpless love
A pitter, a patter I sing
But a great lover you are,
Making such a heavenly descent
What do I have to give you?
No stars, no angels, nor a crescent
Without a bed am I
And a soft one you give.
Mountains for shoulders,
Green valleys to live.
But in your fall you rise
The petrichor, my blush.
A divine love's serenade,
In the voice of a thrush.
As you rise to meet me
With your soil I shall merge
And this world, in our love, shall-
Bloom with passionate urge.
This is dedicated to Madhura, who inspired this poem, in her own unique way...
Thank you. I am humbled. What have I to give you? No stars, no angels, nor a crescent...
ReplyDeleteDear M,
ReplyDeleteThank you...
Dear P,
Glad you liked it... love does a lot but this time it was something more spiritual that forms the reason behind this post... :-)
As you rise to meet me
ReplyDeletewith your soil shall I emerge.
You know, this reminds me of something. There was this history lesson I took in high school. We were learning about the Hindu religion in South India. Something like that. In it, there was a line that hass been tucked in my head ever since.
It was said in context to the Alvars and Nayanars I think.
That there poetry to the supreme was written with such passion, that it personifies love for another being.
Your poetry reminds me that a lot. Ethereally good.
Dear Prat,
ReplyDeleteThank you for your comment and welcome to this blog. It is most flatterring to be compared to the divine poets.