by Anupama Krishnakumar
[box]A man, haunted by the lady in red, in a dream that recurs. Anupama Krishnakumar presents the memory of the dream with a poetic flavour. [/box]There she appeared,
the lady in red, flickering,
like a wild candle flame,
dazzling and impatient..
Swirling, filling the air,
with an intoxicating scent..
Fascinated, passion bellowing,
I approached her; mesmerized,
giddy with excitement,
I ran, hands outstretched..
She laughed, and her eyes mocked,
from behind the golden strands..
She ran, I followed her,
mad with love; my every cell,
bursting with desire..
I defined her,
as the pursuit of my life –
only she, nothing else..
I seized her, but she burst,
like a flimsy bubble,
into a million droplets..
Shattered and shocked,
I stared, and for an instant,
mulled over impermanence..
And that very moment,
the skies split open,
Spitting a glorious ray of light..
Stunned, I gasped and caught,
a glimpse of her –
the pristine white beauty..
Her jet black hair
cascading like a waterfall,
Her face utterly serene..
It was a magical moment,
that stirred my being, causing,
a ripple of realization..
Lo, she rose again,
the lady in red, dazzling,
flickering and swirling,
seductive as ever,
clouding my vision,
distracting this erring human..
Alas, the white beauty
became a blur, and vanished..
Confused, I woke up,
only to ponder over,
the distant memory
of a recurring dream..
Pic: marie-II – http://www.flickr.com/photos/grrrl/
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