scent of pine trees in rain,

 quiet sunset on sandy beach,

silver twilight on grey slate rocks,

lonely shadow on cool green marsh,

mother duck with her ducklings-

a happy bunch in a straight row

the brilliant illusion of my choices

within the four walls of my room

my nights have many eyes you know…

yet windmill startles in every storm,

my Indian Ganges rush by me

chariot of time squeaks by slowly,

carrying rusted laughter and frozen tears,

in deserts of vast eternity-

bottled up in antique vaults,

or restless soul confined in body

 rhythm of a lonesome heart

why breathes an  age old pain, who knows…

before I strip my reflection in the mirror

 and shut my ears n’ eyes to all deceit,

 enchanted  nights hold my hand

 make me see, then count with me,

 mighty flames that follow recklessly-

tiny old spark of eclipsed love,

decipher that glory if  worthy of  tomorrow,

throw key to reality in oceans wild

and command the sun to stand still for me…

– Anoop Kaur Babra