COLOURS

The butterfly fallen from grace

searches for colour in dark night

from thicket to grass

and  from  grass to the  branches again

wandering  like shadow of  a star

on the terrace of moonlight ,

in quest of lost identity—

the pollen grains dropped

into an unknown vacuity

where colours  are simple dust

covering the face of leaves

heaving in dark ;

to this  fall of pollen grain

let me hark

to its soft murmurs in rain

before I weave a new spectrum

from mind’s sweet hues

and from heart’s old pain,

to cascade from beams of moon

and  glitter of stars

to the wings of  the butterfly

caught under the bash of rain.

Comp. n copyright :saroj k. padhi

07/08/14