When those flowers and leaves
Withered from its branch
I know how the trunk felt
For so long under the Sun
Carrying the shame of someone else
Of love and lust they
Once had with tempting fragrance
When the bees were flirting
I know how the rose turned Red with shy.
Now every day in and day out
I couldn’t stand the sight
Of the remaining becoming graveyard.
It is the ‘deep root’ed
Think called Love
Wandering in its dream
Imagining life of its own
Believing things are in respective place.
Making someone’s shame on other
Beautiful from its unseen world
When perspective changes
From its roots to trunk to branches
To leaves to flower
When the sun was on its way home,
I was crowded with your thoughts.
I colored its extended arms
Starting with Green to Red to Blue
Finding it wasn’t enough I continued
With Yellow and Purple of different shades.
And I tried to mix it then and their.
But couldn’t find the right stare.
Instead- the thought turned pale and lamented.
Gosh! I was trying to color the dark.
Though I had a sense of colors
The colors I reached wrote its own story
of pain, and joy through my hands.
When People, birds, dogs, cats,
Friends, fellow poets and the whole world slept.
Oh! I can see the rising Sun
With a wake up call for the day.
And I Hope it shows the art of darkness.
The paint I painted with pain.