Wind stirs the bamboo,
Brings her to dance,
When it passes
It feels a stranger departs in a name of air.
Bamboo arrives to her final destination,
Listen, hear your name,
She sounds stranger to herself
By keep repeating your name.
Is it still a place on earth,
Without presence of your name.
Moon light arrives,
With no protection,
Still blind to her own light,
lightens the path of night,
Hoping to soften its darkness,
Slight some white lines through,
perhaps make cracks in shell of suffering.
A temptation to test bamboo’s loyalty,
If she reveals the secret dream,
How your name echos from silence within.
I stand alone,
In temple of love,
With the crosswords of my lost voice,
With no desire to cry
Welcome a new breeze of change,
To harness the stretch of time,
Make a friend with echo of your name.
I offer my haunted heart, my trust,
And perhaps one day,
When I have my voice back,
I make a friend with echo of my own name.
Do I really need my voice back?!
© Serena Devi, Feb 2010, Thornhill Canada