My Stella - - No

My Stella
My abode
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You are my homeless home,
The sojourn of my absolute
The dark cloud above can't
Overshadow the sun, it's
Pristine glory.
The homeless sky is its home, the womb of divine gracefulness.
The Moon is on lake ancient and medieval stillness,
You are my waves without
The recluse of this tired soul.

Time's merciless blow may not promise happiness
Or land us on secured field of
We will live evermore without ligature,
In space in total liaison in
Incorporate armor.

by Prabir Gayen

Comments (1)

Beautiful poem...abode of God...///