My Sentinel
Old and slightly tilted,
this pine stands by my window
Nodding every morning
As if understanding and absorbing
My grief.
It moves its arms wider with the wind
Embracing the gusts
As if sending a mute message
Of acceptance; to subdue
My grief.
At twilight, it filters the best hues
And splashes them on the sky
to uplift my melancholy mood.
My constant companion that mitigates
My grief.
It beseeches the moon to pause
and shine brighter to lend a little light
to the sepulchral heart.
My sentinel sings to detach me from
My grief.
Every night, It caresses
the owl’s deep hooting sound
To convert it into a lullaby
before it touches my ears, to soothe
My grief.
Am I alive?
A bizarre question haunts me.
Seized by illusory figures
I am dragged away by deceptive dusk.
Eternal night suffocates me
Is this my destination?
The horrors of being alone –
Sans smiles, sans fragrance of my soul mate.
© Balroop Singh
Written in response to https://dversepoets.com
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