The Unrung Ring - Poem by Taslima Nasrin
So many things ring,
the cells of the body,
the ankle bells as they dance,
the silver wrist bangles.
As the monsoon rains fall on the window
the glass panes musically ring.
As clouds clash with clouds
lightning rings out.
Dreams ring, keeping time to their beats,
and, making a havoc internally,
Only an intimate bell on my door does not ring.
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