Endurance
a feeble flame
does not illuminate
my path on this
dark night
I must stop
until day breaks
and shows me the road
that lies ahead
if there be one
in such dolorous times
© Neetu Malik
Walk me through
your cave
show me the petroglyphs
the stories
you have laboriously pecked on the walls
with your hammer stone,
carved in the light of a lantern
where shadows cast gloom.
I am but dust
a grain of sand
blowing whichever way
the wind blows
in the universe
You were the guest at my table picking on the corners of the table cloth, fingers nervously folding and unfolding mutilated pride.
Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythms and the beat of the human spirit. She draws upon diverse multicultural experiences and observations across three continents in which she has lived.
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