Untill I Arrive

Stunning yourself, after setting ablaze, circumbulating the tied down god in center, you start a death dance for the wasted limbs. How far the self-immolation was justified for the young pond of hyacinths ? And as I moved away from this stupidity, the rains arrived to fill the streams; glaciers decided not to melt away. Time stopped me in my tracks to hold my pen firmly and open the craft page. Here the street now burns to make sufferings taller than rewards. You lie still in the sea of blue pains, waiting to set fire to strawberries. Satish Verma