Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Scenes on a Cold Night


In the cold of the night, your eyes on me,
twinkling with a starry shine, your eyes that scans me.

In the cold of the night the star shines bright,
its brightness obscured in the moon's white light.

In the cold of the night, your breath on me,
your breath, so loud and warm, appeals to me.

In the cold of the night, the raven in the tree waits,
waits for the sun to shine through the heavenly gates.

In the cold of the night, the tree stands still,
still as a corpse, feeling the night air's cold chill.

In the cold of the night, the dew on the petal shines,
soaking in the moon's silvery light.

In the cold of the night, the flowers bloom bright,
growing in the scent that often swim in those moonlit nights.

In the cold of the night, eerie and silent lie the green vales,
the vales who watches the hills in every detail.

In the cold of the night, the mists hang on the silent lakes,
The lakes whose peace only the dragonflies’ wings breaks.

The air stands still on those cold nights,
the nights in which we sit by the lake,
under the star’s divine light.

© 2015 Abhijit Pandit

I will take you


I will take you to the world’s end,
if only I knew where the ends would meet.
I will take you where the stars descend,
to meet the earth in their twinkling cold feet.

I will take you where the clouds would form,
and set sail on high vagabond winds.
I will take you where the mists were born,
in the vales so dark and green.

I will take you where the sun would paint,
the rainbow on the cloudy skies.
I will take you where the dew was made,
on the petal of rose, away from prying eyes.

I will take you where the eyes would rest,
on the line between the earth and the sea.
I will take you where the peaks would crest,
above the clouds, where no one can see.

I will take you to the flowing brook,
where it took its birth.
I will take you to the grassy nook,
where the nymphs and fays would dance with mirth.

© 2015 Abhijit Pandit

Often I Wonder

Often I wonder in the cold darkest hours,
Why I remain thirsty by your side,
When you quench the thirst,
With loud roars and thunderous bursts?

Often I wonder in the cold darkest hours,   
Why you come to me
And tell me something into my ears,
Something which I cannot hear?

Often I wonder in the cold darkest hours,   
Why you kiss me so much,
And smother me with your spray,
When I cannot even dance and sway?

Often I wonder in the cold darkest hours,   
Why I can’t embrace you,
And take you in my arms,
And delight you with my lusty charms?

Often I wonder in the cold darkest hours,
Why the waves that surges in you,
Never rises in me,
Leaving me crying in agony?

Often I wonder in the cold, darkest hours,
Why you dance in glee,
drinking the light of the moon,
And I lie there very still, sad with gloom?

Often I wonder in the cold, darkest hours,
Why your warmth cannot melt me,
And pierce me with your darts,
I, with a white skin and a stony heart?

Often I wonder in the cold, darkest hours,
Why the dryness in me remains dry still,
When everything dampens in you,
And I lay dry, though being a part of you?

Often I wonder in the cold, darkest hours,
Why I cannot be one with you,
When you lie there with arms open wide.
And I lie there on the earth, to which I am tied?

Often I wonder in the cold, darkest hours,
What lies in you,
You, the ocean so deep and wide,
I, the sandy beach, your eternal bride!

© 2015 Abhijit Pandit