
Yearning
I glisten in tears
like an April dawn,
covered in dew
like blades of grass,
whispering notes
like softly falling raindrops,
I call your name
like one who is lost –
listen achingly for the sound
of your answering call.
© Neetu Malik
Until I can fly . . . as the sun goes down
and waves come closer
with the rising tide
life spills . . .
forming red rivulets in sand
in the vast desert
man’s fury against man
reasons I do not understand
spring has come
and gone
summer breeze nudges
dense foliage to dance
they said to remember crawdads
asked me to listen for their song
when my heart was heavy
and my sorrow dark
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Bailey Devlin believes in fate. . .and luck. . .and fortune telling.
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