written by: Gopal Lahiri
Words are weaving words, kind and harsh,
Some are opening new rifts,
Some are found resting at the border,
Some pinch into our skin,
Some are pure darkness.
Our wars, our lies, our needless aggressions
Are drunk with faith and credence,
Angry feathers fly, taking senses with it,
Unperformed melodies touch missing notes
Each cry gathers momentum, each twirl motion,
Birds tweet whistles, uncensored,
Sand washed wind weeps in painless words,
Not a sound, only peace is crowning glory,
Dreams are now cupped in folded palms,
A human voice is nonverbal in meditation.
All these are knitting together into a single poem,
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