Half a minute in heaven By: suraj sharma

Cicadas rehearsed their moonlit melody,
The night I ascended to heaven in my wheelchair,
For my open casket had no aspiring wings,
My instinct punctured beyond repair

A desert fire somewhere saluting me in volleys,
Tiny flares escaped from it’s monstrous hearth,
But a downpour parted from the milkweed leaves,
Perhaps to reflect what I was worth

The fakir’s warnings resounded and echoed,
Scaring off pigeons sitting on the mosque’s dome,
Before being devoured by an innocent tsunami,
So in another ivory womb they may find home

And in the gossiping gape of the deodar leaves,
And in the shivering of the linkboy’s feet,
I heard the tales of the world below,
And how it got trapped in it’s own caveat

The sojourner would have been much easier now,
If the loaded dice didn’t weigh down my soul,
But I was kept engaged by the flirtatious celestials,
The observant moon paused on it’s midnight stroll

Love, the chauffeur, stood wide eyed and still,
As death waltzed in my trembling arms,
I spent half a minute in heaven again,
Fore life retracted me with it’s earthly charms



This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.