Walking In Woods Poem by Satish Verma

This spectrum.
No it will not work.
I am not there in the
shade, smoke filled barn, or―
in secular morgue.
Stubble burning was
like legend of war.
How do I shut the
door of diamond moon―
in the kingdom of
weeping night?
An animal in you
will not sleep, claiming the
innocence of baby steps.
A virginal vanity.
Nobody stops you to
display the grains of salt.
Would you listen to the land,
flight of words―
passage of time?