satishverma

HYPNOSIS

That intense pleasure at the height of negation 
haunts me 
from the sense of weightlessness. 
In praise of complaints I sacrifice my anger. 

Sanity demands an explanation 
for the grieved flowers 
who assembled for a wreath. 

The window will not betray the sun. 
Prodigal sunshine will come back 
to face the arrest. 

The prism breaks the charm 
flings off the clouds of flirting winds 
and removes the veils from the eyes.

Satish Verma