I would fain
thaw like snow
in the heat of glances
that scan my being -
claimed, possessed -
in the full confidence
of knowledge,
hard-sought, well-earned.
Glances that scan
its ups, downs; mountains,
meads, plateaus; and its
scented valleys in between.
Lush vegetations, fertile basins
de-skinned rocks, rugged peaks
and this giddy, gushing brook
as at the topography of home.
Glances that having been
farewelled as conqueror,
return as exile, as pilgrim,
seeking wisdom, refuge,
so that to them, this treasure
once owned, becomes again,
precious gift; fortuitous,
powerful in its bestowing.
In the intense candle-heat
of such glances, I would fain
thaw like snow but
passion-struck, you hasten
to light bonfires instead.
- from Moon in My Teacup (2019)
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