Sunday, 17 February 2013

The Unseen

The silence of the night
The droplets of rain
Dripping from the leaves
The moon feels shy
Hides behind a cloud
A dog whines somewhere
At the end of the alley
A car passes by
Its headlights throwing
A weak patch of light
On the pitch dark roads
Long way to go till
The arrival of dawn
I sit in my lawn
Encircling a white bungalow
Now stilled in slumber
Everyone's gone to bed
Only I am alone, awake
A drape on a window
Shivers in the soft breeze
And an owl wails
Plaintively on the old, Peepal tree
I clutch the white shawl
And let my mane slide down
My fragile boned back
A song comes to mind
Heard ages ago
I hum with a smile
A bleak light burns
In the hut further down
By the running stream
I tread thither along
Somebody passes by
An old hunched man
Stooped on a stick
Chanting the holy name
I swoosh by like the
Flowing, whispering wind
On invisible wings
Leaving a thin trace
Of mist behind
A swish of silk
And the holy chant
Echo in the green
Valley beyond...


  1. Wonderful! Very well written!

  2. Your words painted such a lovely picture filled with a subtle hint of mysticism, of the unseen. A wonderful creation, Geeta! Loved it :-)

  3. i am not the right person to comment on poetry but thought i should leave a comment here. absolutely loved this one!! i could picture everything that you wrote.

    1. Deb surprised to find you here but loved your presence anyway

  4. Usually I don't understand poetry much. But this one is cool and I not only understood it but also enjoyed :)