Elf’s Symphony

The night breathes softly in its darkness.
As if, trying to whisper
A quaint lullaby of wet thoughts.
On the couch of a numb sky.

Innocent dreams, timid desires
Speak through prolonged silence,
See through the blindness it beholds
Engulfing my world in tickles of anxiety.

There…I meet despair,
Clouds of be wilderness and stress,
Challenging, threatening, alarming me,
A cacophony entraps and questions.
“Will you be able to
Reach out to the grandeur?
A mere vision in the black.”
Yes a mere black vision.
Unseasoned tickles fade amidst
Fables of disparities.
Just when…
A twinkling elf meets my eye.

Rendering music to the deaf night
This gaiety, this company,
Sings to me- its symphony!

“I belong to the mother
Who never speaks, yet reveals
An epic of the glimmering hours.
She chaperons me to let you know,
There is scope for the night
too, to glow.”

He braces me and no more,
No more I feel- a waif.
There he goes sprinkling behind
Litters of hope, of valour, of strength.
He’d hushed it in my ears,

“Your vision is bleak but your own.
Nurture it to your tomb.
Till then breathe what you dream.”
A mystic pause and he crooned.
“That’s how child, dreams come true.”

Shveta Vashist