On a Cold Night
Maybe when the ways
fade hopelessly on
a cold night,
I chase the north breeze
peeking in my window
It has the gelid of
morn dew in Autumn
and the tales of
voyages, whispering to me,
Relishing in the chirp
Of a nightingale and cicadas
-I gaze up at the night sky,
near to the shivering moon,
I chase the Saptarishi,
seeking to the Pole star-
I lead to the melodic shore,
far away from the wailing cities
the ocean recited me a poem,
the boulders croon along with her
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