A hesitant moment



A helpless dream

Of a faint morning

Slips out from the midnight’s womb

And rests on the fickle light

Of my bed-side lamp.


The tidings that the wind brings tonight

Are hollow and silent,

And yet the candle beside me

Flickers with their humming.


A song dies faraway in soft rhythm,

And silence begins its quest in this dark hour,

When all is wrapped in a cloaked uniformity.


Dust settles on a fallen feather,

The autumn leaves lie withered

on the banks of an ancient river.


And yet each being throbs its existence

On the moonlit shores of uncertainty.


The mist hangs in the air,

like some long lost remembrance.

Dawn takes birth,

in the wake

of the night’s deepest revelation.


A bud slowly

begins to bloom somewhere.

An immature grace.

A sweet innocence.

The magic of tenderness,

like a poet’s forgotten juvenilia.


And the rendition of a passing moment,

Becomes the bedrock my entire life.


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