Birth

Wet petrichored psithurism echo

As the night strikes another hour.

Mud & dust over the grave washed

Waiting for the dead to rise.

Full the moon is, but, the clouds,

Pregnant with water, hiding it.

Deads will (though) rise from graves

’cause this moment is death next tick

As the coming will follow it.



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10 Comments Add yours

  1. trashofpi says:

    Even I’ve used “pregnant clouds” in one of my poetry.

    Like

    1. Sangbad says:

      Really…share the link…will like to read it…

      Liked by 1 person

      1. trashofpi says:

        I had written a year ago. I haven’t shared it on any platform.

        Like

  2. How nicely penned down !! Beautiful meaning

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sangbad says:

      Thanks…life wisdom you can say…

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Awesome words penned Sangbad. Really great.

    Liked by 1 person

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