SUBLIME

by Ramakanta Das

Tell my friend, tell me
what the Spring confides to the breeze
that in turn whispers
some sweet-nothings
in the ears of a garden-full-of-jasmines
and they in turn spill out the beans.

Tell my love, tell me
in which language
the heart relates its story
to wink-less eyes
where emotions take a pause
to slowly crystallise.

Back Button

'