Sahana Mukherjee

The dewy leaves gently blow.
One, two, quite a few perchance;
No multitude around the quay
Nor in the deserted shore.
No anxious quandary...
Only an unknown mystical prophecy.

A sudden stormy tempest breaks free
From the chains of hesitation.
Gushes in with a zealous uproar,
And hits the waves of passion.

Allow no qualm in your wishes...
Lie down in teh shingle beach.
Wet your auburn hair
In the salty waves,
As they ripple swiftly.

Bloating and gloating waves
Of passion...
Grandiloquence of the sea!

Then a sudden gust of shower
Beats down with a thundering might,
Like drums beating amidst a sombre desert.
Rise from your dubious slumber,
Drown your soul in the rain,
Drench your fears
In its unprecedented exuberance.

Oh Divine!
Enrapture yourself with
Amorous serenity, if you wish...
Or behold the romance of the day,
When life is still yours.
Moment you have to grasp evanescence.
Eternity was never yours!