#Poetry ‘The Bed Of Heaven’ by Fiza Pathan

The Bed Of Heaven

By Fiza Pathan

Your faint voice makes my heart

Want to leave my breast and run.

Over the mountains,

The region of the sages sings a song.

You lie within the snow glaciers-frozen,

And my chest melts your form into my arms.

The bees hum their merry tune

While the eagle flies high over valleys and hills.

With my hands extending I cry out to you

Come dearest one of the highland, come nearer.

The pigment of the flower is my ink

And my heart is the pen with which,

I pen down sonnets in your memory.

How can I fathom how much I love you

Even after the waterfalls,

Have drowned my voice in the woods?

With your dreams in my mind I slept

And with your memory I awoke

To remember the hawks cry to the heavens.

I roam as lonely as a renouncer of material possessions,

Without any aim or goal in sight.

I extend my hand out to touch you

In the breeze smelling of pines and oak

But I do not find you in the winds embrace.

Lay down with me in the afternoon’s lazy slumber

Near the hills of the monks,

And let’s kill time with aimless talk.

Let the blossoms be our bed

And the atmosphere our drink,

And let’s sing another song

To the lonely vultures

Whose love went all wrong

Sing another song

Then let’s return to

The bed of heaven.

Copyright © 2014 by Fiza Pathan

http://www.morguefile.com/archive/display/150881

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