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Kolkata, West Bengal, India
The Wounded Healer...

The Open Book

Sparkling waves come dancing more,
Blending into the sand-lit shore
While sun creeps back to its divine abode
Illuminating heavens on its way back home.
There lies on the coast an open book;
And as dusk dawns slowly in each corner and nook,
Its empty pages, like an empty soul
Seeks to fill itself, to be whole.
Thus amidst the vivifying hues,
It searches for its only Muse,
Who would sing the mildest melody
Rousing the soul to tranquillity.
Breezes blow, effacing the shackles
Of life and its ruins and unheard crackles.
Day goes to sleep as Sun bids adieu,
Soul finds itself in the mesmerising view.
The pages are empty no more,
Soul has so much to pour.
But only till it begins to rain;
'Cause tomorrow morning it will be empty again...

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