A view from the cause, 
alters the landscape in you 
I surrender to the earth, 
the roots. Purifying the leaves. 
I tell myself, this was not me, 
my music. Still my skin 
has the tattoos of pandemic deafness. 
I am breathing through the lips. 
My attachment to death 
is a private affair 
my voice lies in a lake. 
The butterfly in a womb. 
the psalms under the rocks. 
Is it ending of death 
or death of ending? 
I go beyond the brink, 
dropp the stone in water. 
When the moon touches 
my eyes, like a kiss 
I start sharing the menu of night. 
The rimless thoughts are hovering 
like small birds. I listen 
to their flappings. 
Can we live without bargaining? 
Do you know the price?
Satish Verma
- 
                        Author:    
     
	satishverma (
 Offline) - Published: August 26th, 2014 22:24
 - Category: Unclassified
 - Views: 9
 

 Offline)
			
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.