Full moon would be her face
Jasmine would be her fragrance
Lightning would be her eyes
Silence would be her language
Dew drops of winter would be her voice
Deer calf of the fragrant forests would be her walks.
I saw her one day and
Asked for her heart as boon
She gave it but immediately she took it back
And went away..
She is indeed the island of the sea, untouched hitherto,
In its fragrant sands, I wished to be floral shrub..
She is indeed the melody, unforgettable after hearing,
Even after understanding the stanzas, I stood in silence..
She being one she shore, and me being the other shore,
In between gushes the river of solitude..
Is it possible for the hands to fish in the waters of mirage?
The time stands testament to the happenings of the present.
She comes along with peace, and I gasped her fingers..
The journey continued while witnessing the many rainbows along the path..
As sleep caressed my head, I rested under a tree..
When I woke up, she wasn’t there and the minute turned bitter..
She was by my side, in that minute,
She appeared as a spark from so far, in the next minute..
She runs like the false- deer that eludes the vision..
Between me and her, a screen stood opposing,
When mask is worn, would the faces be visible?

© gratitude for solitude