Yogini

A vision, a deity, on a hard wooden floor 

with only a mat and the silence to call her own.

Poised to greet the moon, in a tryst with the divinity, 

she fought for her sanity in a world full of anarchy.

Things said, things done, sorted and forgotten.

deep in contemplation, finds peace once again forgiven.

 

(c) Poem : Ashvin Mistry 2018 

Image : AI Microsoft Designer 

Wilderness

by Ashvin Mistry

If I was to dream lost within some wilderness , 

would that make sense to you? 

To all a thunder your presence must I have felt, 

searching for me too.

My blatant anticipation should be expressed as bliss,

when my soul does feel so blue. 

Would you have waited for my words,

to breathe life into you.

Word Games

by Ashvin Mistry

..and so it comes to this

     letters dropping one by one

          among st sips of coffee and biscuit crumbs.

...between errands of this and that , 

      after the first yawn of the day, 

          before thoughts can linger after a hectic day. 

...tally relentlessly one by one , 

      stacking numbers till a game is won.

Nocturnal Bliss

by Ashvin Mistry

I waited for the night to sing, 

     it's resonant lullabies from nocturnal beings. 

Of growls of howls and beckoning hiss,

     that make me wish for some ethereal bliss.

Strangers Reply

by Ashvin Mistry

I know a kindness in her eyes, 

that says I'm alright, 

I'm just fine, 

I'm in control, 

I'm a confident soul who shall not fail, 

but put you under a welcoming spell.

I sense a hesitant smile framed by time, 

used when curious, used when tired, 

used when sipping a vintage wine 

whilst recounting days of frivolous guile.

I see an elegant pose, that could be in vogue,
held with precision , refined in composition,
waiting with anticipation for a stranger's reply.

Broken Strings

by Ashvin Mistry

She broke a feather on an evening spring,
across the string with a ticklish swing.

Melodic notes groaned taught in slumber, 

dream't whispers of silent expectancy 

with seismic climatic intensity.

Held in captivity, 

captured by memories, 

a delicious coalesce,

for my waning questioning sanity.

Entwined in flight, 

bound by my thoughts, 

as each note played it's beckoning part.

To make it weep so, with an idle stroke, 

a joyous fling to a coaxing heart, 

and send a rhythmic call alas I hope, 

to draw me near into her grasp.

Snowy Dance

by Ashvin Mistry

I felt her snowy hair brush 

       about my grizzly face. 

As the DJ  spun an 8 track 

       to dictate the throbbing base.

Guiding her through lifts and twirls 

       then held in a tight embrace. 

She held her breath, her heart, her pose, 

       for just one more moment of grace.

That pause between the beats, 

       is where I want to be. 

Her not knowing, coyly yearning,

       waiting for a glance from me.