The Night

Pastiche of divine bliss, The fluted sister of evening, sits on her bridal bed With troupe of twinklers, Cheeks aurora Borealis. Night, my sweet love Kiss this noctivagant; Wandering bereft of dreams, Drop like Indian bangles Before me, reminiscence Of black flakes,from fire Burning in the cave of day, In the month of May. When sun singes the sequined earth Seeds are sown, for your birth, The lady of the deep, you rise from the sea A kenning of the mother-to-be Crawling, moving, swimming, In me. Vapors over the wafting moon Catwalk for sleepless birds, Heavenly night, a howling wonder Trickling in. A day to begin. 10th December, 2017