A Poem to the Master

I get turned
Into a clean slate
The only movement
Discernible in that clean state
Is the silent gathering
Of throatful of tears
Raving to flow
Out to bathe
Me and 'me.'

Allow this vibrant
Fleeting wink of time
Be my light
My rhythm
My melody
Tuned by you,
My Master!

(15Jul2011)

poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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