She was like a molten rock 
burning with desires 
unadulterated and pure
a hope who could make a fantasy sound real

And her eyes 
captivating the universe 
in a raging swirl 
raring to attain the unattainable 
from the obnoxious clutches of the satin 

Her thoughts 
fierce like the sun, 
behemoth and aberrant,
not meant for the world 
or the appreciation of any sane souls 
for they appear like some mythical fable

But her demeanor was calm 
like the halcyon of some medieval times
reposing in blithe 
under the influence of some misty occult 
standing tall in storm or gale 
deviant and unperturbed 
as if she stole permanently the moon’s grace

And I stand there in awe, 
mesmerized by her stance, 
beguiled in her aura, 
arrested in her divinity 
for eons to come 
and I hope someday 
maybe in some faraway constellation
she will absorb me in her sphere  

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

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