By: Parthajit Borah
I can feel you in my heart, at my dream and my soul.
I can stare you when moonlit melts in the first mist wintry.
I may call you when the shameless night
sooes my raw dreams at dead of night.
Singing bird of the remote forest often
disturbed my ears and urged for
listening of her symphony.
to meet the colourful kite.
Dreams are changing at the every moment
of life to draw the picture of black eventide.
Spirit of the soul weaving silvery dreams
at the handloom of love to smell
the fragrance of sanguine spring.