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.
Copyright © Durlabh Singh | Year Posted 2016
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