Saturday, 13 September 2014

ON THE THRESHOLD - -

The desires were alike the flying
moths of last rain, a while
hovered on the canopy
of magnolia, later
moved
toward the light of death, maybe
that was so called a short
life but purposeful,
undefined
passion
is hidden in your love which do
not allow my soul, to get
release from the
terrestrial
body,
it often comes back after going
a little away, you're always
waiting with mysterious
look on the stairs
of threshold
as usual,
why I do not know, perhaps I do
not want to know !

* *
- SHANTANU SANYAL



http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.in/
Calla Lilies  by Ann Hoffpauir