Trembling Hands

TREMBLING HANDS. With trembling hands I let go of the furies Kept under my command Staked for offers in foreign lands Where clouds gather on yellow hills. Wailing across the wilderness Where buzzard fly powered by Hot winds blown from desert Slapping the senses into torture. Instructions for the heart To turn up rebellious gestures To melt icicles of the frost With sharpened pen knife Into some modes of indifference. Warm sensations spreading From desert to the land of lore The steps onwarding will find A brush with salty oceans Along the sea weeded shores. Durlabh Singh.