Sana

Sitting on the banks of a river of past or of water,

Tears seldom flow though joyously hidden

A face flashes or is it thunder on the other side,

The glow is blinding, enchanting enthralling.

Sitting on the banks of a river of past or of water,

I recite the face in my heart,

The verses are wordless, but rhythm they have

Words feel feeble, poignant, unseen

Sitting on the banks of a river of past or of water,

I have drowned into that face, drowned in eclipsed eyes

Drowned in impulsive red feathers, freckled

Hair fall free, fearless, flawless.

Sitting on the banks of a river of past or of water

A question awaits me, hidden somewhere in void

A question with no answers, a question of such innocence,

I get up from sleep, stairs, memories.

Walking away from the banks of a river of past or of water.