The Beckoning...

The tug of the night carries my feet up to the hotel terrace. The sky has stooped and clings timidly to the parapet. Someone, something beckons quietly, across the expanse of eternity...Is it the flapping wings of the gulls on the nocturnal leg of their long journey ? Or is it a shooting star: quick, silent and fulfilling, a moment in the livery of lighthood? Surprise awaits me in the form of a host of flitting  fireflies, glinting and glimmering, albeit spasmically. The silence is heightened by the presence of  two women whispering to each other in a language I do not understand. Gratitude fills my being.


Fireflies flicker, burnishing 
the presence of two women
sitting cross-legged, their
voices susurrant against 
the sloping sky where the 
moon needles its way across 
a gold-rimmed storm cloud; 
the sound of ocean, and the 
swaying murmurations of sea 
breeze hijack the shadowy
flight of the night as it slices 
the darkness into luminous bits.

A memory long lost hesitantly 
crosses the path, caressing my
cheek, brushing past my eyes
making me trip and fall and lo
here I lie on a bed of dew-drops
amongst a scatter of wayward 
dreams clinging to the morning 

Comments

Kamalini said…
amazing visions and imageries. I am lost in it.
January 7, 2023 at 2:41 PM
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