The Night
Pastiche of divine bliss,
The fluted sister of evening,
sits on her bridal bed
With troupe of twinklers,
Cheeks aurora Borealis.
Night, my sweet love
Kiss this noctivagant;
Wandering bereft of dreams,
Drop like Indian bangles
Before me, reminiscence
Of black flakes,from fire
Burning in the cave of day,
In the month of May.
When sun singes the sequined earth
Seeds are sown, for your birth,
The lady of the deep, you rise from the sea
A kenning of the mother-to-be
Crawling, moving, swimming,
In me.
Vapors over the wafting moon
Catwalk for sleepless birds,
Heavenly night, a howling wonder
Trickling in.
A day to begin.
10th December, 2017
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