Across my window sill,
over the piled up
sheet of armour ice;
the untidy backyard lit
a hundred candles,
while the night danced
a waltz,
warming up the cockles
of my memory lane.

 

Midway, even before
soft landing,
and briefly settling
on the newly erected window panes...
snowflakes made it
to my temple-heart,
as flash-backs gently collided
with my present
journeying jocund days!

 

Finished scenes of a limpid past:
in silence conjuring
with this present hour.
Swinging victories.
Unfinished Psalms.
Kindled reminders: searching,
gathering lyrical notes,
all for: forgotten songs.
Lighting up Our windows’ brand-new-frames!

 

1999 

                          

Geeta Chhabra