Conclave

By Sushmita Sadhu

She blooms like a lotus, on the waterbed where they once played,

As the fine desire slides down her temple,

To fall like whispering dew on his lips, as he wonders where they had last met,

Her laughter sounds so familiar.

They will meet along the waterbed tomorrow,

Walk beneath the cosmic chance this time,

They have to share this world again.

Ringlets of longing drop by her feet,

He marvels at their fortune as she splashes a little of the water,

A touch that holds his hand has coloured his palm with all tenderness.

Like a fragrant garden, the bud finds its breath;

They flower at the soft breeze that flows beneath his thoughts,

As her smile falls on the brook, the canopy shimmers in enchantment,

And the nectar flows deep into his heart.

By Sushmita Sadhu