MY PEN BURNS
written by: Dr Santosh Bakaya
When the long arms of the violet night embrace me
and tear- etched faces jump at me from cracks in the skyline
The stream gurgling behind my tiny cottage
Serenades me with pastoral songs,
erasing those traumatized faces haunting me
till I go into raptures of delirious delight.
The soft hill breeze wafting from the trees
sends me into a reverie, unending.
The moonbeams, in a burst of shimmering compassion
Pierce the all- encompassing fog
Pouring their glimmer on a skeletal man
sitting on a gnarled log, in patched dungarees.
He sighs a long drawn-out sigh,
tapping a tattoo on one pathetic patch
as tears glide down his cheeks.
A new song strokes his tired heart, slowly, silently.
The water ripples on in the creeks.
Peace goes seeking a peacock flaunting its plumage
Bright; settles under a lush tree, listening to the mockingbird sing.
My pen burns, yearning to turn into a brush and splash
the hues of love on the canvas of the sky.
The trees whistle, as the night woos the moon.
My heart dances and applauds this sudden boon.