(Image Source: Google)
Language is my space ship,
Where our orbits clashed
like your utterance;
Oh how delicately you tamed your tongue,
Without any inkling,
With the flouroscence of the Dravidian script,
I skipped into fantasy.
Distance lost its memory.
An instant souvenir,
Another on insistence —
Those Bangla syllables you embraced,
Like the jasmine and the petrichor.
Somewhere in some parallel universe,
The states merged– west and the east,
I felt the tremor!!
And it happened–
I heard a flower bloom
and a star shine,
The moment you uttered those words,
In a language I considered only mine.
Those delicate pronunciations and your silence,
Minute tales colouring your eyes,
Oh, how can I even dare to ask for more?
For this, in the zeitgeist of the new year!!
#NaPoWriMo #Day 27 #Poem 27