Abracadabra.. Arka T Chakrvarty
I picked up the honey-coloured moon,
and placed it on my roof
I embraced the sky.
Moon sang deja vu.
I embedded the stars in my bosom.
The bygone hours clasped hands in prayer,
and tomorrow was born.
The walls sang--
Blew the horns.
The floor danced .
The windows are my path to heaven.
Let's fly Peter Pan...
Two whirling souls,
whirling high and high.
No days, no nights
In the cosmos of our genesis.
Father Light is waiting for us.
Copyright@Arka T Chakrvarty, 5.9.21©®
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