The sound of the sleeping house
Ceiling fans inside, insects outside
Cats which meow and dogs which bark
on other days, are silent tonight
It is the sound of my sleeplessness;
conversations with myself; pulling
out chains of thoughts from my head
splitting and analysing without any conclusion
There is also the sound of passing hours
the lost time which follows a lost sleep;
I listen and probe and probe myself
for traces of stress and strain
I could hear the sound of whispering near my ears
of non-existent ghosts of bygone years
and of near ones who spoke to me a while ago
I resign to the sounds and in time fall asleep.
When you write there's a feel of authenticity that touches the reader every time. You create an image, and here even a sound. So accessible because it feels so lived. Bravo Sanchita!
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