FAITHLESS AUTUMN

Bleak landscape 
transcends its shoulders, 
writhes in pain. 
I praise the light for green haloes 
and tall figures, which cast 
long shadows on parched lips, 
my world. The hot sand fills the eyes. 
A palpalable seizure shakes the horizon. 

I drift like a dry leaf 
on the winds of time 
the perplexities of sand dunes 
and dancing smoke. 
What I was striving for all life? 
A metaphorical silence 
spends the energy of unspoken waking. 
The rich decadence of things unhappned. 

The occult rules the flesh 
and the music of life dies. 
The names start trading the tree, 
full of flowers, inarticulately 
to faithless autumn. 
The twigs long for mother shape 
the icons will swallow 
the melting grief in vain.

Satish Verma