That night
enveloped with
fragile moon light
He came to my camp
where I hardly slept
in a boiling jar
of fever.
Half clothed
calm but assertive
He sat beside my camp cot
held my hands together
and
smiled.
Who?
I asked
He showed his visiting card with
nothing printed on it.
And gently touched my forehead
with those bigger
very bigger fingers.
I felt like a sparrow
plunging into deep
layers of shadows and silence
and instantly became blind.
Out side my camp
moon and those stars
suddenly rejuvenated
and started
staring through
my window glass.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
only the blessed can have such an experience. were u in the army for sometime?