Moon Poem by Paramananda Mahanta

Moon: An enchanting self.

She talks to me
Wiith her softly laying arms,
With mellowing tenderness
Gossiping my forgotten pages,
By her ever reaping charm.

She talks to me
From the heaven,
With her softly angled view
Through my heady window,
By whipping me like the shadow of dreams.

She talks to me
In the missing corners of my life,
In her searching eye,
Sending some concealed rhymes,
Tomypleasure riding senses.

She talks to me
When she finds mebathing
With my beloved in her golden charm,
To see us drowned
in the silent glade of paradise.

She talks to me
When night's bending horizon,
Eclipses me to dip in divine wisdom
And life dins over years,
In her silvery woven home.

Copyright 2020
Paramananda Mahanta
All rights reserved