A Look-406 Poem by Smruti Ranjan Mohanty

A LOOK-406

Sometimes I look at the beauty of the fading sun
and the crimson glow of your palm,
at a loss to understand which is more soothing—
the grandeur of the dying evening
or the matchless grace
of your golden palm.

A strange peace begins to bloom in me
whenever your fingers open like light.

Your palm is a cradle
which sorrow never dares to touch.
It is like a beautiful sunset
folded into human skin,
soft with warmth and silent kindness,
as if compassion itself has taken shape.

And perhaps that is why even grief grows quiet there.

Your palm is the abode of Goddess Lakshmi
and the loving consort of Lord Vishnu.
When you place your palm,
stone begins to speak with eloquence,
and the poorest of the poor
find a reason to smile and rest.

Even tired hearts seem to breathe again beneath its shade.

For me,
the shadow of your palm is the most beautiful treasure
I have ever received,
the grace of which
lies beyond words.
It is a poet's dream,
an architect's masterpiece,
and a small heaven
where my restless soul learns silence.

Sometimes I still look at the fading sun—
yet return quietly to the crimson glow of your palm.

Smrut Ranjan Mohanty©
India
26.5.2026
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