It Matters Poem by Satish Verma

When it drips
drop by drop, a burning candle
becomes a poem.

If you knew it,
time would stand still
to meet your integrity.

Come out some night
in moon, to watch the blue
love of lonely trees. The
melted dark becomes a song
of earth.

Tomorrow
you don't want it―
to come and yesterday to go.
If you can freeze this day
I will never ask for a requiem.

O god, will you
forget my name and
let it be a shrine of
unknown traveler.