A Bare Day

by Bibhu Padhi (July 2016)

The last sleep was long.

Was it sleep at all?

A mere drama of rest

 

that lasted for as long as

I wished it to until

I could find the answer

 

I was after, the difficult

answer to all that I

prayed for but never wished?

 

I never knew which face

was right and proper,

so my prayers would be

 

answered in a moment’s

illumination. It was only

despair, needing sleep

 

and rest, with no questions

asked, no wish settled

for anything less than

 

a voice that could be

identified as his or hers.

All the time I wondered

 

if a line could be uttered

from a place that I was

not quite sure of—

 

a voice that was meant

for my ear, soft and clear

as the first sun, its accent

 

somewhat like the one

I knew from the day

I heard it fantastically near.

 

___________________________

 

He lives with his family in Bhubaneswar, India.

 

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