Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Her

A half read novel
and an unwritten page of a diary
look on from across the table
as she is sleeping
but awake
into some dream.
Her eyelids move
like an infants fingers
and you know
she is all into it,
the dream.

A hand above
her head
and another cuddling a pillow
and you know
she'll hold onto things until
she herself lets them go.

The breeze comes
uninvited,
she always leaves
a window open
for her friends
the early morning sun,
the breeze
and the moon-star pair
of the nox.
The breeze nudges her
and instead
its her hairs
who respond
talking to the breeze,
letting her sleep.

A coffee mug
on the table
has its imprints left
like the imprints of
the few who have come and gone
and criss-crossed her way through life.
A family picture
besides the bed stand
talks of love and promises.

And her eyes closed
speaks of dreams seen
and a road still to walk
hopes still to conquer
and love still to be attained.

4 comments:

Aditi said...

impressive :)..
Mr. Shekhar has really got talent ;)

Arnav said...

Amazing post :)
I am blog rolling you :)

Keep writing and smiling :)

commited to life said...

beautiful..
it was so amazing..
havnt read such a nice poem in quite some time

p.s was just passing by

commited to life said...

beautiful..
its so amazing
havenet read such a poen in quite sime time..