What rose nestles among night-sky crystals?
The knock on the agony of silence tells me:
my praying alone on rooftops
hasn't stopped my yearning for rain.

Why should a river await my breath?
I would stand where I stood
if it'd retraced its course to
where it bore away my rill.

I've always watched the moon
coursing the night sky
brooding on my shadow.
My journey must take place
within my self.

 © CR Mittal

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