Magnetic, twinkling stars,
Shimmering, burning bright.
Which is your home,
Your dwelling place
After your show of lights?

 

Do you tip-toe back
To your abode?
Or, Palanquins bedecked
In marigolds,
Come to fetch you!
In the wee hours, wading
Through the fading, ebony night?

 

Do you sleep at all!
Or, just before dawning,
You enter the sun
To kindle sunbeams
And bathe us in solar lights!

 

Norway
1997

                          

Geeta Chhabra

 

From the book :Smash My Glass by Geeta Chhabra