Rosmin Elsa Mohan (21st December / New Delhi)
I once dreamt of an open field,
The bareness of which alone did shield,
A shadow so frail, in a shadow as such
I thought as much.
I felt it again on my bed at night
Darkness; through which I saw the light
Silence - to feel; and to feel so weak,
Silence, I think I heard her speak.
The crowd through which I made my way,
Gave me a second to poise it through
Shouts around, though I felt them nay,
The Me within, in silence too.
The hours of solace so gifted in tune,
A language unworldly, (beyond the moon!)
To realize it though, you need the frame,
Simple at first, ’ Patience’ the name.
Foes though come, are conquered all.
In her skin, she does stand tall,
Naïve it is, but more a bridge
Vain and slain, together abridged.
As every dawn turns the key,
Feel her true for a minute or two:
The price of it, without much ado,
Reflects around in the eyes you see!
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