How Will I Tell You About This Tomorrow

In time’s tavern

I lift the glass of encounter

Drunk and rid of existence to be

What I imbibe

Death’s memory be

The rest is just journey.

As if life is a play writ for me

I bow to the applause

Wave away the driftwood, the breakers

Skim and splash with beach-combing shells

Watch the sea woo the sunset

The sky is a jealous red

Night is painting the space

Between a million suns

There I am

A light on the hill

Where drunk fireflies make love in the sky.

How will I tell you about this tomorrow?

You come to play I have to stay

Huntsman shoes

Robes of youth’s abandon

I journey through the minds of men

To rest in the shade of solitude

Blossoming in fields of loneliness

Watch the images flowing there

Shorn of symbols the fountainhead I.

Like dense delirious pilgrims

The waters flow over their banks

Solitude, their woman, is fertile tonight

Eyes swimming in singular delight

She reaches over the lordly rainbows

And melts into my night

Shades of Mona Lisa, the sad bad lady

Her smile’s promise, my last memory.

In the wake of early forgotten revelry

These moments are eternal

No sound leaves my lovers lips

But look in her morning eyes

A lifetime I see beckoning there.

~Deepak Oberoi~