Calling You
Through the darkest of dark forests
Where the spiring snake-like sprouts
Fasten you,
And piercing the spooky blackness
That pervades all of your space,
Shoots the sound
Of a gushing stream,
The ethereal smell
Of a fire,
The intangible ashes,
The wet earth,
The rains,
And life,
Carried over to you.
Breaking away from
The binding shoots
That stake you,
Crossing the barrier
Of tapering stems,
That pain you,
If you dare to look at
The tiny source of light,
The small fire, the water,
At the very end of
Your eternally dark forest,
Where the blue sky
Extends to infinity,
On the other side
Of that stream of life,
I would be standing.
Always.
Copyright © Prakriti Palchoudhury | Year Posted 2012
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