by the hour
the girl calls- tears in
her own earth
her own earth
dampness scorched -clay feet
she knows not
she knows not
the night and the day
darkness stays
darkness stays
dreams run down bruised cheeks
yet she smiles
yet she smiles
yet she plays the swing
what a wonderful creation this is..loved it:)
ReplyDeleteno IS .. it is not a creation. rather an incomplete narrative ..as i didnt find words. Young girls who are trafficked and pushed into sex work .. tend to loose ALL their child hood ... their sense of relationships ... love ... passion is all upside down.. what is day for a child .. is actually night for her...and vise versa.. ...but yet when i lost all hope on my own capacities to reach out...a swing helpd..to bring back the essence of childhood ..to her .. and to me...
DeleteSorry .. i havent been reading other blogs ... but when i saw your post titled 'aura' ...i felt the same as what you have expressed....its indeed an honour..
DeleteIf you hadn't explained these verses more fully, I would have asked, "Who is this mysterious girl?"
ReplyDeleteIn This Sacred Hour
Thats the limitation and the beauty of a Haiku as i currently understand this form of writing. the more abstract it gets the more it consumes and most of the times what is expressed is so intimate to the writer that the exact undertanding of what the writer undergoes is unknown to the reader.
Delete