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Poem

All the rhythmic beats of the heart were wet 
The happiness of your return is in the happiest tears

In the silent cloudy pond of the blue sky of the green veins
My excitement enjoys a bath of nirvana 

There is no pair of pigeons 
There is no familiar thatched dome
The hunter-cat is also gone
There is no dance and chirping of the little birds
No bamboo dale where our imaginative ghost lives
The heart is the withered bridge after smoking the tobacco leaf 
Now the smoke from the chimney is like a white cloud
Where empty notebooks are life's detailed conclusions

Your arrival in this open chin of the epic evening
Your feet touch the heart of hoary loneliness 
No door, no window but your calling bursts through the darkness
The extinguished lamp is burning in this apathetic pen

Come, come to the atonal heart by tuning the Krishna flute
Come O Lady Lakshmi Swarupini, come to the soul soothe 
Kindle that love lamp by the bit of your lenient heart
May the lost past will be treasured in the embers dart


©Mahtab Bangalee
January 20, 2025
Chattogram

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