Supra Lune

Sweet surreal evasive as the moon
Wandering overhead
Off tune half beat marching tune
In the morning of my future
I spy no friends from Luna
Free of mind and light as air
Brave  and always fair.

Sifting silk waters of the shadowy harbour
Green leaves their palms adore me
In the night of multiple pasts
I sojourn oh how they contour me.
I see my old friends holding mirrors
And each they seem to deplore me.

In the presence of such anachronistic tales
I simply want to cast off the veils
Of pretentious lure, of sweet allure
On the walls of presence to meld.
In this moment, this token now
This terrible gesture, this fest somehow
of living somewhere, someway I will bear
Thank God for this belief
This relief, no one else required
This sole blessing acquired.

In the evening of siphoned breath
I am rationed to a sword in its sheath
Beautiful steel will never reveal
It's edge
But gilded handle of gold I clasp
Tomorrow I will kill the dragons
And free my lady by the lonesome sedge.

Sometimes the lines are nonsense
But the feelings are not.
Sometimes in between two words
Some unspoken meaning is wrought.
This is my offering born of the
Silence and the dark
Kindest solace is Inspirations' spark.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017