Sitting at leisure, The switch mounted on the wall, Catches the attention of my eyes, To hold their gaze affixed, Enticing the index finger, to touch and surmise. If what is visible to them, Is what the touch would describe. And in this quest, the finger plays, On the switch and its confines The bulb goes off and the bulb comes on, Unlike the day and the night, Those enter and exit, At the desire of time While I sit at ease, defying it, Adoring the ascending day and the descending night, At the nuances, of my finger : Abhishek Dua 6th November, 2013
Posted on: Wed, 06 Nov 2013 11:47:54 +0000
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