Poetry Challenge : A New Week,A New Poem (3)

The days are passing in a gush of sultry winds and echoing moonshine.I have never observed spring so deeply before.Nor have I let the poet inside my open the stone gates and come,breathe,take in the sweet air around and rage the prison walls to the ground.He was exasperated of all this,for so long a time had I forgotten him that he stopped speaking to my soul.The last time I ever wrote substantial "poetry" was when I was 5 years old.And a decade later,now is when I write again.It is all so thrilling,it creates so much - so much of pain and liberation and light and air and misty winds and raindrops and worlds ; worlds deeper inside.

This,like most of my other poems was written in the middle of the night when all I can remember was that I smiled and took up the pen and then I was basically silent as I watched the pen write.It is quite inevitable to me by now ; it always happens that way.

A photo posted by Titas @ The Perspectives (@blogperspective) on Mar 27, 2016 at 2:20pm PDT

Flow

In every light year

In a trillion raindrops

In each of a millennium 

In every spark of a century 

In every turn of a decade

Every year,every week,every lazy Sunday

Sun-soaked or shivering

Everyday in plays

Valid or foul

In every hour,every minute

In every fraction of a moment

You depart - I see you fading

Like an old pastel sketch 

Or a letter burnt

Whose ashes now in silvered gowns

Flow through and over time

You depart - that is why words return

You depart- that is why poetry returns

You return burn and excruciation 

You depart - as birth is born