Endless Waiting Poem by Anu Joshy

Mind,
Mind is forlorn,
Like a book, misplaced by somebody
somewhere…
These slashing sheets of rain,
soak its pages,
with the dampness intruding inside…
Inside,
to the veritable reflections of mine,
Meaningless thoughts,
Forbidden memories scribbled in the depths…
Those watery eyes,
staring at me in the darkness…
Everything, stolen by these ruthless hands of rain.
The raving wind,
scavenging the streets with its cheap fragrance,
Turns the pages brutally,
and probes it, like a visitor’s book.
Beyond these careless glances of the onlookers,
Beyond their sneers and jibes,
The hope for the warmth of those truthful palms,
sustains this endless waiting…