ALL THE EMPTY HANDS

To catch himself 
he jumped into fishpond 
becoming opaque 
between silk and lethal crotch. 
Milk of silence started flowing 
from earth's breast. 

His name was a flower 
who was a blind witness 
of the love- 
for a moon 
which plunged into a lake without a bottom. 

Pain is spilled since then 
on the charred lips. 
Marigold-
waits for the sun 
to rise only once. 

All the empty hands 
carry one eye 
of the seeds, 
to sprout in jungle of smiles.

Satish Verma