Open the window
and the morning will walk in gently upon your road
with the scent of the flower, the healing one.
Trains whistle past along the line, shrieking sound penetrating the past.
You slept long. The whistle of a roaring train,
a strange medley of sounds,
but stranger still is the peace that comes
sleeping by the running track
as though you are sleeping long by a running brook on an endless night.
Open the window, let the morning walk in gently with the scent of flower, the healing one.
Sushama Karnik.
No comments:
Post a Comment