By Kshipra Pal
(Few puddles of fresh rain in cobble sett
reflect the hoary face of a dredging sky
where stars as thick as hung curd
are getting plucked by the hands of a night baker
who then marinates a longevous silence
by tripping and tossing over their beams
quick and continuous; subliminally
until all of it whisks into an indented spiral
quickly heaping into a gauntlet that grants
sapphire wishes breathed by the gentry)
Before the magic of the universe fades
This is an alignment straight with time
when spangles of dreams are birthed
by the midwives of the night before passing
into a horizon that eventually dissolves
into sleepy corners of an ephemeral gadfly
Against this staircase of
heavily descending grace
I mumble my wishes;
I wish
to become one with the magic
Not like the one that simmers over my head
but with the one I find spread upon the trays
of the passer byes, emptying food
for strays; on the corners of the streets
In the languid voice of the strangers
not filling their mouths with brazen words
to drag others down
strangers... much stronger than me
who would brake their shiny limousines
for a centipede
I wish to instantly admire all such people and acts
with no air of supremacy, just like the universe
at a transient hour; famously known as 'angelic'
Although,
to make it ephemeral and lasting
I know
I have to grow the flesh of a human
over the bones that blow sirens of wishes
then burn their flesh under the day flares
of an ordinary sky
I wish; basically
something more human
from this human life!