Souled Out

By Paramjit Bakhshi

Some days the soul

Desires to sleep,

It cannot be bothered

To pick up its body,

And drag it

For a walk.

Some days it is

Blind to the beauty

Of the Gul mohar

Or even the laburnum

Shedding their bounty

On the sidewalk.

Some Days it seeks

Silence

And a holiday

From talk.

Some days it has

A slow tune running

On a loop.

And the relief of

Being on auto pilot.

Some days it desires

The sense of a

Somnambulist

And to live

Without a thought.

By Paramjit Bakhshi