Drop Not the Curtain on Love
written by: Pramod Rastogi
Love is a voiceless whistle of life,
An ocean in which dwell virtues
In search of a luminous shore,
Where they could find fertile soil
For them to debark en masse
And sprout in shades of green
For love to find its voice
Through the mingling of these tones.
Reflected in the lakes is love
That has been scattered by the sky.
Springing up are the sprouts.
Their surge streaks all the way
To reach the sky invincibly high,
Before concocting in all directions
A space for birds, native or in migration,
To find shelter and make their nests.
Love’s god has begot a macrocosm
Where there is no day and no night,
Only shades spread all along the way
And cool and uplifting breezes
For the traveler to rest his limbs
When the sun at its zenith aspires
To dethrone the force that heaves
Inside his drained chest.
Love spreads by its perfume
And is a mother’s gift to a life asleep.
The traveler basks in its radiance.
Love is like a carpet of fireworks
Which moves to each knot in a chain
And erupts into petals of bright flowers
That float in the air like flames.
Drop not the curtain on such a sight.
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