moongazing bird

The sun basks in its own glory
Its a feast to a million eyes
The stars lay out their silver
In the shimmering tresses of the night skies
The clouds play with the platter
A thousand shades
They reflect and scatter
Though love could be any
The prism and its so many myriad shades
Yet the height of my depths
Or the depth it is, of my highs
The crescent, the half, the red
It all signifies
The craving, the lust, the music
the muse
It all grows with all darks and brights
I become that moon gazing bird
on new moon nights

-deepti Singh-


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