satishverma

WHAT HAS TO STAY

Like I want to erase the fear 
before I light a remote fire 
in the blue veins. 

Actually this was the crisis of self pride 
in manic depression 
seeking the anonymity of toes 
tracing the footpath. 

Becoming a paper-boat 
in the winds of flesh and fancies 
on the choppy sea of death. 

No spinal pain for candles 
to burn in courtyard 
of sunken faith. 

Red grapes in a tiny bowl 
leap to lips of sun 
for sons and daughters. Ajmer, INDIA 


Satish Verma