A morning psalm, don’t be, to me
Nor a plea, baptized in, twilight’s blood
For the twain would, still be blasphemy
To sow, in my heart, your yearning’s bud!
Not the, lingering whiff, of your first menses
Nor the tears, you veil, with your virtues
For we’re, far beyond, those pretenses
Which cage love, in worldly ‘values’!
Not a smile, with a millstone, on your soul
Nor a sigh, estranged, to a long-lost heart
For they both appear, to pay sin’s toll
Not the faith, of love, two worlds apart!
Something beyond, the ‘rational’ realm
Poised yet, between, fear & fury
For the faith, of love, to overwhelm
Make Me A Bead, Of Your Rosary!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra