Doorways

A Poem by Abhra

Something draws me to write
a poem that meanders inside
with a wish to bloom with your name.

But you know how it is
I lose myself in the fireflies of life
and time floats away somewhere between tonights
and the clouds on their way home.

As I navigate to the lines of your face
morning breaks into the frailness of sleep.
I milestone through the day,
by your hair blowing in my heart,
and then evening comes
somewhere around the gentle slopes of your neck
as a simple twilight.
And I stop by a tree.

Somewhere down by the country of poetry, there waits a boat
a song of gales and a whisper of oars
to nameless crosses on a nomad map
and I begin to sail through truths and fables.

And sometimes in my sleep I harbor close, nigh,
to the native poem of you,
to your touch which bears the meaning
of the word- home.