Poezja

Entering into deathless trance
the moon was galloping across the clouds,
clad in blue winds,
for a spiritual encounter with the sky.

A saint in making,
a grandson of god,
retreats in a religious retreat
to taste a forbidden pain of separation,
without surface love.

In a see-through transparency
the arrogance juts out
parting the tall grass of the assault course.
The prophetic self-absorption will decide the destiny.

The segregation of caste had ultimately
blossomed. Matter is generating energy.
Cosmos of a single dewdropp reflects in sun
The dry loaves are thrown on the street.


Satish Verma