The Desert Poem by Jujutshu Kumar Deb

Soaring up above a cloud of thoughts
Dried up in ones self esteem,
There is the silent desert, the barren night.
Why is there no garden?
Where is the stream?
Where are the flowers?
Dust in the graves
And maggot crawling bones,
Dusty silence, strange quests
Anchored by the body,
There is no water,
There is no rain,
As I settled above the clouds.
The summer is come.
There is darkness below,
As the first rain showers burst
I return to my body
And bathed in the down pour.