Ecce Homo

Satish Verma

When silence stays alone 
in the hollow of the eyes, 
would you come? 
In the audacity of 
beauty and pain, when 
the moon does not rise. 
Like beggars the clouds 
roam, parting the 
sky for a glimpse of a vision. 
We will speak like 
strangers not looking into the eyes. 
Not quite sure― 
you blinked. Time to return 
back the gifts of ocean 
profound and deep. 
Pearls, tears and half-angel.