On the rooftop

The day is overhung with cloud,

A curious dream alights on the rooftop.

On the verandah, I am drinking

A book of poems-it is a good day

for drinking a slow world.

Inside my brain, a line of song returns

-of Tagore, ' still you remember me'.

In this fall-leaves in pattern floats down on

the naked ground- a couple sits on a bench.

They are as old as eternity-Love froze them

three million years ago. On other side of

the park lit-up window shows a magic.

In the melody of Malkosh from sitar played by the

the great maestro behind the clouds,

I am drowned-it make me an actuality

sans flesh and bones, sans intellect and

language; I threw my heart on the pavement

it leaps onto the sky like a moon so beautiful

that words fail........

What is it? you are no longer to answer me.

In the melody of sitar I drowned my self-

It made me only an existence,

sans flesh and bones, sans intellect and language.

I threw my heart on the pavement,

it leaps to the sky like a moon so beautiful

that words fail-what is it?

poem by Aloke Mukherjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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