Poetry

Handprint of innerself was
writ large in your eyes.
I hear you in your becoming.

Are you me and me are you in sameness?
The words and silence?

I hope you are listening to the waves,
from inside, from outside.

Sometimes we were talking with our skin only.
The sea was roaring on the shores.


When fog retreats, we know each other
in abandonment as fish in water of life.


Satish Verma