Phosphenes

A sky denuded of stars Is just like a garden devoid of blossoms. Even when the night sky goes aloof too, I close my eyes And enter into a profound colloquy With the phosphenes of my eyes. These flickering phosphenes spring up at once Presenting a phantasmagoria of various hues of blues. How well have these phosphenes deciphered That I possess a weakness for tranquility! They pirouette incessantly Displaying a multitude of shapes and forms, As if essaying their utmost To impart their solicitude to me, To attend to my unvoiced revelations, Scouring away the feeling of loneliness.