The conversation that I start with myself
With ecstasy and distress as players
Translates to a poem at times
Interwoven with emotional layers

When the dialogue carries the fragrance
Of roses, jasmine or frankincense
The words weave magical moments
Of love in its sublime sense

Sometimes the dialogue takes a queer turn
Making it grotesque and ugly
Dragging the words up an incline
Agonising through the sonnet painfully

And then there are occasions
When nature tiptoes silently
Nudging the words one at a time
To garnish the stanzas artistically

And so it goes on and on
My poems continuing to create
A very special world for me
In which I love to meditate

Subir Chakraborty / 26th May 2018