Beyond Discernment

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The last thing 
I wanted to say before 
the sun went down. 

Heal thyself, Oh 
seer, stoking the flames 
under the lake. 

Honey-yellowed, 
fall of your climax― 
for golden calf. 

Like a hen in blind 
panic, under the spell 
of innocent blade.