Sonal Singh On Sonal's Table
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Blow gently O wily wind as you pass through my lands
My child sleeps in gentle slumber.
Do not rustle; do not swish as you pass by my house
My child rests his wearied bones.
As the night darkens and rain looms in the heavens
Do not disturb, let my child sleep.
As the heavens break to unleash thunder and light
I plead, I beg for your silence.
If you must, then caress the sodden earth as you pass
Gently rustle the grass, whisper there.
Do not wake him; shake him from his restful reverie
Leave him be, six feet under.
Image – Mahkeo via unsplash
