One Day at Varanasi

By Deepa Pal

The Ganges is flowing in front of me__

And my sunk feet are glowing with glee__

And I am here to see the life folded in death__

And trying to draw a bee loosing its breath!

Don’t know why__

I am being prisoned in shy!

Those floating evening lamps__

Have brought a memoire of you,

Those glittering October camps__

And those lost morning dew!

But I can’t stay with you more__

I can’t knock at your door__

I am not like that before__

Whom you had found near seashore...

The pure Ganges is still floating__

I know__ at its core, death is cloating!

By Deepa Pal