He
The moon raised
On the mountain’s peak
And
He disowned my hand.
He quickly started stepping up
The hard stoned stair in front of me.
He stopped half way
And looked back.
He wiped off all flickering faces
Of mountain’s foot
By his own hands.
Then
The moon on the peak
Caressed his rough face for some time.
Now
In this last phase of passing night—
I am watching that
He is seating on the peak of the mountain
Clasping the moon very deeply
And
The surrounded fog is
Moistening
Him,
The moon
And the mountain’s peak.
(2014)
This poem originally written in Gujarati Language
