Evening

Banshee Sirens fade into oblivion

Genies emerge from Conch shells

You suddenly recall your countless past lives

And a few prisoners escape the reformatory…..

A tear, two or three misdirected prayers, four trembling sighs

Evening is where the camouflage suddenly begins to wane

Evening is where the masks begin to crack

Evening is where alien songs emerge from tea kettles

Evening is where I once gave my favourite jacket to a shivering stranger

Evening is where I heard your name….

The Stars come out of their siesta

Slowly and suspiciously, tenderly and progressively

Like ghosts

Distant thus consecrated

Adroit and yet kind lovers

Stars never force themselves upon you….

Nor does evening….

Evening is where sorcery turns practical

The gaunt and sinewy days all become women

Women who have waited for aeons

For sons, soldiers, fathers

For a placid touch or a kiss on the forehead

Perhaps for a genuine ear

For a sturdy and silent embrace

For ringing stillness….

Lie down, flat on your back….

Look at the sky….

What do you see?

Blue, deep deep blue,

Maybe a bit purple too

Like an Ocean waiting….

Distant islands here and there…

Come hold my hand

Let’s take the plunge together….

(dedicated to Sayantani. Thanks San)