satishverma

PULSATING

In the cavernous mind 
a thought becomes 
redundant. 
You go straight for a snakeroot. 

A flat cluster of white flowers 
spurs a stigma 
at the white moon 
for floating rumors. 

This was my native pain 
of brilliant tapestry. 
The threads had a weaver’s knot 
of rare beliefs.

Satish Verma