Waiting... Poem by Dr. Baishali Bhaumik Mitra

He waits
perpetually and forever,
for a renaissance of love and peace,
for an embrace,
where there wouldn’t be any verdict;
for a time,
when he wouldn’t be asked to prove.
Sitting at his secret corner, at the roof top,
among the mute antics of the bats,
walking along the crowd that frenzy past him,
getting drenched in a torrential downpour,
or sitting forlorn in his cluttered room;
while fighting a battle of words,
trying to establish or justify non stop,
or later, even while making love to his beloved,
he waits
eternally, always,
for one understanding,
for one precious moment
to lose himself in a hold, in a cuddle
of arms that are
opinion less,
judgment less.