Embrace the Harm

This was an elegy for a
fallen tree. Salt of my body collects on
the skin. An aphrodite walks on the bloody trail.

The daughter of the moon
cries gently. Under the snow storm,
what was the legacy of hiding the sun?

You rise like a volcano
to engage me. Put the thoughts in
mind-space to communicate with your soul.

The Sun cannot be hidden under a snow storm. So is  love.

Rajendra Singh Baisthakur , Nellore, AP, 524003