Grey Zones Poem by Satish Verma
Grey Zones
Turning a prayer wheel
to fire an arrow
towards your heart.
Let the veil slip from
your face― coming near the sun
ridding of the clouds.
Trees also can sing,
if you sit under them.
Was it a human way to
become a stone?
Talking to a candle
in windy night, I will ask―
if ever fever rises, will you
blow off?
Under the lips
some silver was spread.
It shows up only, when
eyes rain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/1/2024 4:16:12 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Turning a prayer wheel to fire an arrow towards your heart. Let the veil slip from your face― coming near the sun ridding of the clouds. - - - - - - -I marvel at the beauty of this poem.