Not A Dream Poem by Satish Verma
Not A Dream
Imperfect mating.
I am lurching forward―
in a chaotic
non-existence.
There was no divinity
in your sinless sprinkling.
A timeless death was
the only riposte to ephemeral queries.
A lif-size God stands
sentinel outside the museum.
Only the mortal were
etched on the walls.
A pygmy cycas has bloomed
after a decade. I have come back
home to collect―
my belongings of last life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/1/2024 10:11:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
