your voice..

You were present in my presence,
but it was decades back,
where memory lanes lost their slender tracks,
by overgrown weeds..

Today you are still present in your absence..

A promiscuous rain
never cried when a sun died
she still came at a night,
slept till dawn,
dote on the day
and went to bed with a dusk..

I coulnt understand her too..

Today when the night veil its face with a dark cloth
and go back to her broken sleep,
I still wait for your voice,
which I remember as a calmness,
a touch of feather tipped solace,
brushing my cheeks and passing away,
back to reminiscences,
in the silent stillness under a placid pool of memories..

The voice had a calm pitch,
with its dense core of expression..
It had a detachment with all its allurement
It was soft yet bold,calm yet vibrant,
cool still warm..

It ddnt belong to me the listner..
yet in a world of senseless noises,
it was my alimony
from my estranged dreams..

Then one day it stopped..

May be now you find it worthless,
to go back to the forgotten lanes,
and search for dropped moments,
among the trash and wastebins,
when the present sun is bright
and the future moon is sparkling..

Still I wish to hear that voice,
If not in real but atleast in,
My imaginary anticipations..