*Poets have no countries . Except the wild taste of memory ; the tapestry of pain.
…………….
The wind howls at my window as I grapple with strange destiny. This road leads
me back to the winter we have left far behind.
Pritish Nandy *
In this all pervading dusk
as Sawan lashes out
unabated
frenzied
Unstoppable
beloved,
I am reminded
of moments….
….when you were
My fire , wind and ocean
And me the pliant Earth
Being molded
By your light…darkness
And twilights.
Now I am just
Helpless rain drop
Lost somewhere
In nameless storms
Dreaming maybe one day…
I would drizzle
Across your soils
Until then
Let me adorn
My silences…
With perennial nostalgia
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 7, 2010 at 7:09 AM UTC
*Poets have no countries . Except the wild taste of memory ; the tapestry of pain.
…………….
The wind howls at my window as I grapple with strange destiny. This road leads
me back to the winter we have left far behind.
Pritish Nandy *
In this all pervading dusk
as Sawan lashes out
unabated
frenzied
Unstoppable
beloved,
I am reminded
of moments….
….when you were
My fire , wind and ocean
And me the pliant Earth
Being molded
By your light…darkness
And twilights.
Now I am just
Helpless rain drop
Lost somewhere
In nameless storms
Dreaming maybe one day…
I would drizzle
Across your soils
Until then
Let me adorn
My silences…
With perennial nostalgia