Motionless within the ambit
of moon,
the rain squirms and flickers
under the street light
in the vacuous silence
of a monolith.

A cricket walks on a cloud
and starts the lightning.
The urn was blind, fills up with grief.
The goddess climbs out of rainbow
and accepts the message
of fireworks.

After the pain, there was
frigidity. The lips will not move under
the mortgage of unvenerable words.
An innocent deal was brokered
with stings about the truth
of the wasp.

Satish Verma