(photo by Mike Wells)
for not giving you, a ‘handshake”
eventhough I love to do so,
with my heaven,the broad hand.
for,not showing my face,
lost its beauty,like a dried up river.
As nothing to fill, ,its banks, skin and bone.
For, not showing my eyes of gratitude,
As nothing to nourish my dry eyes,
like a parched land,abandoned forver.
For making you sad,
I, like a light fading lantern,
dying in its surrounding darkness,
cant see anything.
For making you ,uneasy,
My soul ,a withered leaf in a desert
broken in its deep agony for decay.
For my soundless cry for help
my throat is dry and sore,
not a drop of tear, to wet it.
Thank you, for your holy hand,
and the teary eyes,
sparkling lke a star
in my dark cloudy sky.