If I Die At Dawn Poem by Prasanna Mishra

If I die at dawn
Stand at the window
And wait
For the breeze
To cheer you
For the rest of the day
With fragrance
Of the night flower
A handful of which
I always loved
To pour into your palms.

If I die
When the fiery disc
Is still young
Norture that plant
The bud of which
Had you not restrained
I would have plucked
And put on your soft lock.

If I die
When the sun is at zenith
Put that apron
Around your head
Which you said
Was my talisma
Even while you are
In an unfriendly crowd.

If I die
After night's approach
Take that walking stick
I had promised
You to buy for me
And take you out
On a stroll
In the evening
On the bank
To watch the stream
Flowing into the sea.


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