Balance

বৃহস্পতিবার, মে ৯, ২০১৯শনিবার, জুলাই ২০, ২০১৯ নাসরিন তালুকদার উপমা

Days,
Days when the dam bursts
When it pours relentlessly,
Leaving nothing but the earthy fragrance
That makes me heady.
Heady,
As I used to be when I was in love with you.
Love, such it was,
As if there was no clue
Like we were stuck in a limbo,
No today, no tomorrow.

Then there are days,
Days that turn into years
That roll onto decades
That become eons.
Bringing on the most ferocious draught;
Draught that makes it tough,
For the soul to live and laugh.
Draught that makes me forget
That I can stop the death,
That I can hold onto
The endless horizon that’s you.

But survive we do,
Survive we must,
Survive we shall,
And survive we will,
Like the little blue cactus
That blooms in the Sahara
In the middle of April.