Pulsating Moods Poem by Satish Verma
Pulsating Moods
Advent of strange
sign on forehead was asking
for the laughing eye.
A cessation of
botched therapy was a need.
God was still alive.
The birth pangs
were becoming stronger
with every fall of trust.
The gravest thing
was the love of moon.
It keeps you smiling.
A triplet of four stanzas. Well written piece. Thanks for sharing! Sylva-Onyema Uba.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 6:32:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
The skin is the film scrim of manna. Break from continuous adulation, the baby must attach. Must make of itself a butterfly with eyes upon the wings. I smell the stain of sunlight hidden in the cool green grass under the tall trees with fronds like feathers.