A Hankie- (A Ditty) Poem by Seema joglekar

When the moon trails like a wiped yellow smear,
When paths have crossed & you still take the one's that veer,
When the night is spent & sleep is nowhere near,
When the eyes run rivers in a downpour.

When all hope is lost &there is still left a prayer,
When the rains gnaw an old wound that wakes up to stare,
When the river has run it's course & the land lies bare,
When the stars write a name that your lips would'nt dare.

When you live on borrowed charge &spent all your powder,
When prosperity comes sloshing out of the skies with the cries of storm water,
When in grips of frustation, the wind knows so much more than the little it whispers in your ear,
When you see one serious virtue, not narcissism, but a brief wish to be better.

When costly is defeat, not soothed by greater consciousness,
When wasteful is profit, with not the courage to employ it,
When one does not grow, but pays more for remaining the same,
When the evening T.V batters into stupidity the sense of the sensual,

When wind howls like a wounded shrew, in the clouds of doubt, taking it's place in reason,
When a hapless humming bird flits, obliviuos to the evil around,
and there you catch a glimpse of the divine.

That's when you need a tissue paper,
Once called a Hankie,
And this is how all old things get to be,
One is a keepsake- an error in reflection & the other sees the bottom of the bin.
The question is -Will you give it to me?
But on second thought- I'd rather you did'nt!

26 September-2009
Seema. Joglekar
x---x---x