Acclimatising

Blame not

the cast of shadows

on corners closed to light,

But flame the torch,

sconced,

awaiting willing hand.

Trip not,

in hesitation,

cursing blunderous steps,

But feel cracked pores, crevassed pointing,

thirsting

for faith touch.

Idle not

in disharmony’s speculation.

Rather, murmur

faint remembrances

Till refrain

makes glorious your voice.

Fear not

the underground passages

dependent on your darkness for existence.

Rather, shelter there,

acclimating

eyes to gloom’s recognisance of faint shafts.

Drenched

Attempt at a Shakespearean sonnet.

 

Would rain cease to fall if our love ended?

Oceans and waterways parched into land?

Clear skies disclosed, cloudy days transcended,

Drought and aridity forced by fate’s hand?

Should sun bursts of loving, scattered and few,

Cast shadows on earth and thirst for all man,

Could we forgive any need to eschew,

Or safeguard future as best as we can?

Drenched in outpouring of heavenly storm

We gaze into blue and plead for release,

Monsoon’s donation absorbed without harm,

Entreaties to god to hear earnest pleas;

Tempests’ cascades to shower forever,

Flooding bank balance of deepest river.