Saturday, May 25, 2013

When she shone...

She like a calm
Shone ...
A bit subdued...
Just like one
After a mass
At a church...
Engrossed...
Uplifted...
Touched
By her God...

She shone
In her own glow
Of love...
As Meera found perhaps...
Or Radha...
Love maddening yet so much blessed
That she shone in her whitest dress...
She shone in her peace...
She shone in her depth...
She shone in her sinking feel...
She shone in her sleepy restive ways...

The moon ...
She shone in her philos...
In her eros...
In her agape...
In her beauteous glorified rounded shape...

And
By her
Every bit of atmosphere...
Shone...
From the outer one
To the innermost...
By her...
And
The calm dropped
On every little blade of grass...
On every pebble on the road...
On every face of the earth...

No comments:

Post a Comment

The State Funeral

At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut,  She could not have spoken for  The rare award,  The police have done the th...