UNWORDED

The search was absolute, 
truth was not. 
The shades of impermanence 
and flowing emotions merged. 
I stood between the reality 
and tilting shadows of time zones. 
The distance had created 
metaphors and I was weary of pretentions. 

The deep sorrow nurtured 
a grain of truth 
an essence of time. 
Earth shuddered in the 
process of integumentation. 
I trampled on the grass 
as if to find the ozone. 
Impatience scattered the wings. 
I smelled the stone. 

Take me not to gloom of death, 
the immeasurable pain 
I will find the ultimate path. 
It was not easy to uncondition the lips. 
Mute genes had become my potency. 
Unworded a voice rose in the east, 
I squirmed.

Satish Verma