THE WHISPERING SILENCE

Bleeding the sea
For brown seaweeds.
I was trading the tides.

Talking me blind;
Kissing on my face,
O moon, you were reading
the dark earth.

To awaken me.
I prick my fingers to collect
The fractured thoughts.
The ospreys were expected-

To land for laying eggs.
I will seed the clouds,
To bring in rains, to
Wash the stains.

Satish Verma