I have come to You

The spaces which occupy solitary words

Of an unwritten poem

Those spaces I wear

I have set myself free

from the rumble and grumble

of the heavenly thunder

to get sink in your

umber depths

till my last sunset

Lying dashed into pieces

upon your ripples

by-and- by

Fending off  treachery of time

See my Sea I have come to You

For whom you have kept open your door?

The traveler has steered towards the shore

Your part in his story is done

The gone ones never return

Like your forefoot

Begs each second

the tresses of the Palm tree

to be wholly yours

Beyond reasons

Beyond imaginations

this way

slipping off in the pockets

of hopeless hopes

See my Sea!!I have come to you

Paras Ali/2018

In search of the Shore

I have set my sail                                    

 to that landscape                                   

 Which is on other side of mountain waves                                                     

The Stars are the mentor                  

Their twinkle is guiding me hour by hour                                                             

 I am nigh to reach                               

When and where I know neither                                

As my glance dwindles;                              

The more i see the more                      

 The miles elongate,                            

 The sight of the shore fades                                       

On and on                                                                                

I row and row to a distance long.   

Athens has come, nearby is Rome.  

Beloved! How far is my home?                                                                                                        

The search lights are black in the middle                                                                                 

 They are now wary of bidding farewells.                                               

 The empty envelopes in my attic                                                                       \

are eyeing the tides since ages                                                                                                   

Awaits the food Ma has cooked                    

Awaits her eyes which no one has wiped                                                   

Those ruins which lords and ladies have denied                                                            

 I wish to tell them                                             

They are still gay and grand                             

My hands long to brush                             

From them their dust                                                                                                                 

In this enormous infiniteness                                          

The desire is to                                       

Lay beneath the soil of my own                                                       

Beloved! How far is my Home?

Paras Ali/2018