Realising the Language of Darkness

 

Dr. Manas Bakshi

 

Darkness has its own language,

The evening touch of soft fingers

In fullness of an awaited equilibrium

Means something like that.

 

Imagination moves a step further

Into the vistas of an art gallery

Displaying temporal art strokes.

 

Contrast of colors,

            water or oil

Create images

That too speak their own language

Not before all of us,

Not even always.

 

The language is of darkness

Of satirical conjecture

To begin with imagination

Not to end in physical fulfillment,

The matrix is always there

For self realisation

In the same language of an innate darkness

Lingering on afterwards

As the memory of the first kiss

Ignoring even that

The relation has lost all its warmth.

 

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