Poetry

From hereness to thereness
a heat flows-
in the height of fears. A timeless need to map
out the pain of earth, floating on clouds.

Lemon grass
cuts the swan lake. There was a devil in water,
hiding under the rock. You must learn to walk
on waves. Death knows the way of gliding.

The foot under the door, unlocks
the light. You had undone, what I canned
whole life. The threads were weak. The
frost turns off the peaks.


Satish Verma