Poetry 4 | The Sun is also A Star | Priyanka Bhandarkar

As if I could reserve a seat for my friend

For I have been swinging relentlessly for hours now

Between the appearance of the spotlight

To the spontaneity of a serious thought

Glance after glance to see if  I remember

Changing and wiping away the rage,

To see if the sun has risen to a steady image.

If a mirror be honest then is distraught

The reflections of the light so obscure

In kindling the embers that are reserved

If I could hold on to something hesitant

Like the shine and silence on this round number,

What is the address that you give or did you surrender?

Do you like to watch the sun which draws pulses?

Or the smoke disappearing from the chimney?

The renegade of the sun submitted to divinations,

In this hunt I also seek the technology that becomes.

It is but in my community that we pray or seek the sun

Towards our  lineage that it is must be the supreme being

To share work in the field as we celebrate the release,

And in this apocalypse the sun is but a legend opening.

The sun gets to write about the end of the world,

And in this disaster it doth always remain single.

It is but our own terms and conditions that on expectations vouch

Love is always closer to us at second sight in this casting couch.

Each person is different from the others in their upbringing

Is it enough to be seen wrapped in love,hope and happiness?

All Colors mixed together as it appears to our eyes

The distance between who we are and who we were  is too wide.

The way light keeps quiet by forming a shadow that holds secrets

Light just scatters out of habit but does not fall apart or crack into pieces.

Maybe that you are in love but know that you have fallen for yourself,

How can you trust the stars that are just a symbol of  birth and death?

A witness which has so suddenly come and disappeared by stealth?

Shall I weigh memories to a summer morning that I lived in the past

What I want even now is laughter,that hope and a beautiful smile.

People just want to believe in their dreams and dare to dream

Until one day they count their stars in the aftermath of defeat.

The stars made available connected to themselves at some level

In the life that they lived everything has turned beautiful.

The thing is that we like the stars because they are far away from reach

I watch them every night with the idea that they exist

Love is just the place once where the stalactites and stalagmites meet

People don't die but they just become beautiful like the stars besiege.