Here in some archaic past
we, as shepherds, had wandered far,
and when the winter passed
came again to gather
tufts of wool that was caught
between thorns and bushes,
from the season last.

After ages thence, by chance,
we cross paths,
linger in the same meadows, the same haunts,
still in search of the tufts of wool
gathered and kept in store for us,
unsullied by the winds and storms.

Sushama Karnik

 Imagecourtesy +Lilium Candidum




https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Albert_Bierstadt_-_Light_in_the_Forest.jpg

An Ode To Sleep

AN ODE TO SLEEP
Sleep, be for me a messenger tonight.
Weave me a dark quilt.
And inside, decode
the mystery of light and night.
Long did we evade the baleful encounter
of each other .
I hid behind my obsession of a dream
and you behind my insomnia.

I dare you now in the name of the devious vagrancy.
Your dark tresses fall carelessly
over my eyelids; they refuse to close.
I dare you, do not touch; they waited long.
Now stay away; no more mockery of touch and go.
And still if you are bent on coming
come straight in; do not knock

Image credit +Tanya Dimitrova