Spirit Kirana

Hyacinth garden

perennial sky in the fading dusk

the blue turns rusted pink, then to burnished purple

I hear the call from the wind

like sweet flutes

I am waists high in wind

on moonless nights, who is the one that cares for the acacia flowers

when their shadows are alone

even shadows emerge into a new dawn

there are so many

to the child of light, I am a shadow

endowed with a rich voice, my aesthetic sensitivity

setting aside that I am lonely but never alone

you ask me why I write poems written by me for all of us

the reason I write is that I implore just one thing

there are words in my soul, I am a poet without a terminus

receptions from my devotion to light

because every poem I recite

they are like the moon in cycles

over and over in reflections of time

speeding through the thunderous night

against eternity and darkness

in some jasmine forests at midnight

I become moonlight traversing serene paths

if we held each other’s eyes in a peaceful gaze

spirit Kirana, face sweet, rise in my earthly days

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