Barren

Barren lands I lay on, desolete, devastated;

Drenched in the puddle, had famine stricken eyes-

Closed, illusioning happiness still blanketed me;

blinding self to the shreds that now lay scattered,

where once lived my house of love.

Uprooted was the climber, we together had cultivated;

Clock had ceased it hands, called time;

The very foundation was no where to be found;

Deep in the heart, the rubbles had clotted-

refused to let it drain; eyes had come to rescue,

to sympathize with the crumbled backbone.

What if we had sown a tree, instead of a climber?

What if I had nurtured it with water, not blood?

What if I had not failed to sense it was coming?

Questions many I ask and answer,

Wounds many I harbour and bandage,

Prayers many I make and curse,

Hopes many I bead and live by

In the barren lands, lonely.

Accross the horizon, the sun shines bright;

It calls for me, promises me a new day;

Lending its hand, it wants me to stand;

Giving me sand, with architechture it helps;

Skies clear studded with stars are beautiful;

Night breeze wriggles and calms, it says;

Each dew drop on the flower is a magic;

Each shy smile on the lips is therapeutic;

New moon it makes me appreciate;

Only to be hurt, as the curves go down

with the remembrances of one such moon.

I go back to the pitch black nights,

the polar cold winds drag me back

to the barren desolete depressing lands.

Angry dark clouds hovered,

Loud lightening struck.

Scared, scarred, folded I weep

with the rains, in the rains.

Storms swelled, torrential rains washed

with hails that lashed and drops that caressed...

All within, the clots, the rubbles

it dissolved, drove and discarded.

Spring- it finally took me away;

With it, in its fragnant embrace;

Far, from the lands barren...

Far...into the castles on clouds...

(Written: 17.11.11)