spring night of himachal | spoken word poetry

It is a full moon night.
The moon’s face is lit,
And all it’s scars are singing, are exposed.
Vulnerable.

River beas is flowing like silver
Has melted down and
Is running through the diamond-like stones.
The silver is glittering
As the moonlight
Caresses it with care.
How i glitter when i feel your touch.
The mountains look like a moving silhouette,
Faded behind the mist and fog.
My feet are freezing in this moving bus
As it traces the curves of the road.
My stomach hurts at every milestone
That separates us further.
It hurts me to to think how these roads
Have cost us a thousand of thousands of trees.
The bus is moving on a land full of death beds.
I can see some clouds now,
Sneaking out between the mountains,
Like a kid drew it there instead of the sky.
The sky is clear, surprisingly,
Unlike my head.
My head is full of thoughts,
My heart feels heavy
As i describe a spring night of himachal.
I have no particular reason to.
However, i must write tonight.
I can’t stop thinking about you.

 

This poem was written by stuti on her last trip to himachal, here she decorates himachal, love and pain, and her vulnerabilities in her words, in poetry.
Stay tuned to read and watch more of stuti’s tales.

 

 




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