Thursday, May 24, 2007

Missing the snakeman

moon light through the window
gives life to the blind’s shadow
lifting itself
to a sensuous dance
pitter patter raindrops
incessant drumming of random thoughts
dampness in the air, tiredness of the spirit
a shed skin somewhere, lying soaking wet
fragrance of raw flesh
brought by the roaming cloud
stirring hidden longings
rising slowly like the snakeman’s hood
the rain stops
as the moon sleeps
and stealing back the fragrance
the cloud moves
knotted feelings untie,
as the snake uncoils somewhere
the mind lets go
sleep creeps in,
but the heart lingers….


MORGANA said...

Kisses & Love

T.N. Jayachandran said...

As a grammrian of the old school I feel 'moon light' should be spelt as 'moonlight'.
A good poem.