THE TOUCH



When I looked up,

The branch reached out to me,

It bent and looked at me,

Took my hands,

There were no thorns,

Just a feel of velvet

Studded with a few pearls,

Those that were stolen

From the morning dew,

That rolled down the elbow

Of the long stretched night

As it held the darkness of the hours

Within the stony casket of time ,

Waiting to come back to life,

With me,

With the first burst of fragrance

That rained on me,

Bringing me back to life ,

Resurrecting,

When the branch touched me.

©®Madhumita