'Song'

While music merges with wilderness and hills
and cries in caves of scattered light…

where distant seas churn songs and winter
in the moist cradle of blue recesses…

there we might search for you in specks of
stealthily disappearing spirits…

And your fingers now gleam
with untamed imaginings-
of buried souls and restless colours.

We sleep while you dream…

For you shall rise like the moonlit mist
on the wings of perfumed nights,
and embrace miracles…


(This was originally written for Inam. Poet and Friend.)