High up on
the uninviting mountain –
uncalm prevails.
The air is fragile,
sparse,
and thin.

 

Down,
at the grisly foot
of the uninviting mountain –
deep down the valley,
I stand with emptiness,
already weary.

 

Beneath me,
the open ground-surface
lingers on;
as in stealth it lies
with demons’ skills:
to devour me in one-piece!

 

Higher up,
much beyond and over
the uninviting mountain –
the cruel sky looks on
like a rigid rock,
so still...

 

Doing nothing...
nothing for me!

1999

                          

Geeta Chhabra