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Dawn is unseen
Sunset leaves no trace.
Between night and day
there is little difference.
Daylight has no time to speak
and night
it has lost even the address of sleep.
Moonlight is rare
too rare.
There are sky-high towers to live in
yet no neighbor is known,
the one across the hall
a stranger
Doors remain closed, always
Words are another matter
but even whispers
the city has no time
to place in your ears.
And so it is I
who must open the pages of this closed city
with the dampness of lips
upon my fingertips
seeking out four forgotten letters.
I must turn page after page
giving new meaning
to each sentence.
To this city, trapped in a race
I must lend breath.
To this city, yoked like a mill buffalo
I must gift wings
teach it to soar like a bird
For there is no other way.
I, who have lost my village
must now learn
to coexist with the city.
Image Copyright - Varala Anand |
