Yes Is No

Phoneless, messages, bouquets

all come in sequences like

pebbles, sand, leftover foam

drying up in half a second.

Images turn turtle

gold becomes bronze

flowers sting like asps,

for the axial joy is

lost like diamond below the sea.

 

My soul is dumb as the words

hurriedly typed in a message

and closed like the midnight lotus

will my light ever come

to breathe out the petals?

 

Yes light will come

flowers will bloom but

my bloom will wait for

the soul of light to awaken my soul.

Sabita Sahu.