Dhruva Gautam
As the downy flakes of snow sway to and fro on the pine trees,
On a full moon night, when rays bathe the rocks on the riverbank,
When ecstasy takes nature on the cradle of spring.
I was entangled with the same vine of nourishment when you looked at me.
The bee returns to its hive with a sigh of relief as it stumbles upon the sap of the flower.
I was surrounded by the same tenderness when you touched me and spoke.
I was looking at you with a smirk when you gave me a handful of words of faith.
But you seem to have a broken heart!
Like the broken heart
You were looking at the walls of my cracked house with deep eyes.
When you go back
I just broke into sweat with blood and trampled around, leaving footsteps on my toiling field.
For months and months, I sat on the screen of remembrance, looking at your feet, looking at your colorful pictures drawn by my eyes.
But you did not come;
I know your weight is high and very high these days.
The black clouds of your memory come with tears flowing from my eyes.
These days, however, storms and hurricanes also come; not just rain.
When you climbed my back and ascended to the heights, I found standing soil.
You know the wounds of my poverty; you have already known my weak navel.
Again, in five years, your return will drown my poverty and cultivate my dreams again.
But nowadays, I am decorating the scarecrows of your shape all over your ways collateralizing my dreamy eyes.
[Gautam is a lecturer of English at Shankar Dev Campus, Tribhuvan University.]