It tempts, a flitting butterfly
Inducing chase
To settle fluttering , hesitatingly
On my tongue
Run rivulets of feeling
Through the ridges of my brain
Stains my memory
With its' singular sound
Until at the edge of
Understanding , experience
It coalesces as a drop
To reflect it's meaning
And in so surrendering its' mystery
Settles into the folds of familiarity
In giving its' all
Is how it claims me for its' own.
--shubha
No comments:
Post a Comment