If, you be an artist;
Your words then are
the unique tinge
dancing over the
whole canvas; in
the patterns of

A sculptor, at mind
If you be;
Your words then are
Finely carved intrications
On the stone
that itself has
Turned to Life…

Be you a gardener
your poems then are
the spring’s
Virgin and fresh;
Novel and bright,
rejuvenating the
Soul of muse…

If you be Hemlock;
My lips shall kiss
And tongue cherish;
Tears shall dance
And senses drowse…
Destined you are
To spread in me
My heart shall squeeze
In and Out
To and Fro
Much beyond.
You are to run
in my blood;
as the shimmer
Of my soul,
Leaving no aspect
Untouched of me….

~Mehak Dhaar

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