Restore me
To myself
Divorce me
From perpetual death.
Bathe me
In fresh showers
Under the summer sun.
Take me
To lands
That speak of mystery
Where the tongues
Are given to leaves
And songs to birds
And little cicada sings
Enlivening the valley
With fresh sounds
Across the mountains.
Seize me
From clutches of
Concrete
Give me suns
That will melt
The frozen seas
Within myself.
Poem by Durlabh Singh