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Poetry of Issue #8        Page 30

Screaming from the Silence

The stillness in the air hangs silently and waits for its communion with nature. Like an orphan speck of dust bouncing on the strands of the sun. I feverishly look for an anchor. My life is blinded by the thick luminosity these sudden joys bring. Grief begets acceptance. Thoughts rattled like a puddle of water disturbed by the stone thrown and breaking its skin. Grief like ripples, traversing in haphazard directions. An outgrown fractal of grief. Growing incessantly and devouring everything like a blind tornado. Here everything is numb carrying the deep stench of loneliness in its folds. Here the nights carry the scars deeply carved in the serrated ends of the palms leaves anointed by the frothy moonlight. Here the shifty-eyed moon is my mute witness to everything beautiful and scarred. Here I am screaming the loudest in the cleave of this marred night but still waiting to be heard.

       Megha Rani