You My Poem

Come to me

When light is low, not quite out,

Silently;

And be with me

When darkness thickens

And night descends overwhelmingly.

Sing to me 

In floral tones;

In simple rhymes

of light and life and love;

of whatever is in short supply on earth. 

You owe it to me.

You are my poem

In gossamer veil

A piece of my being on wings:

An indigent prayer,

A meagre offering; a cri de coeur; unheard 

Heavenwards winging.

you are innocent, humility and inexorable solitude.

You are my poem.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Lonely by nature,

Lonelier in a crowd,

Indifferent to sacred shrines

I meet you at the crossroads of culture

Always.

Prone to pray at penumbral places,

Scared by the glare of marketplaces,

At dead of night I worship

At bare open spaces,

Darkness and light commingling,

At the crossroads of culture.