Ink Stains

Ink Stains

Like a lame infant learning to walk

A dumb beggar who now can talk

A cripple who no longer needs his stick

Or towards a window, a well-aimed brick

From summer trees the autumn leaves

At midnight mass a band of thieves

At dawn the sleeping crow

At summer’s height the freezing snow

On placid lakes the pounding waves

At pharaoh’s tomb the rejoicing slaves

In a desert the palm ringed pools

Undisciplined soldiers following rules

At twilight the disappearing star

A drunk lady in a crowded bar

A flowerpot that’s out of place

Or unstrung threads in the lace

Seeing the world unlike others see

The bard now lost in reverie

Tells all as is his will

Ink stains dripping from his quill

~ Siddharth Sanyal ~

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