Oct 9, 2014

cold feet

Outside my damp room
A mystic sits.
Tunes from the heart afloat.
I cannot but be in awe.

In the distance there is laughter-
Amidst the ongoing silence of the hills.

Like the city girl who left her home-
Below, another wordsmith sits,
Taking in the sights and sounds.

Like me, he doesn't know
What he's here to find.

A place where forlorn lovers loved,
A shelter for my soul.
She strums away her restlessness,
The voices take me home.

1 comment:

Arjun Mudelkadi said...

This is very well put. Your poems oozes out a picture which is cosmic and ethereal. It just makes one want to be part of that picture, one way or the other.