Wrinkle
Published on October 14, 2018
Wrinkle
A Sonnet
Courtesy: Priti Ghosh
O such a poor bargain Thou hast made
When Thou chose this good of lesser grade.
All sham and hollow this lowly fruit
No glimmer of hope, only a brute.
What whim swung Thee O Wave
Am only a wrinkle, yet Thou dost save!
Of all the expanse above and below
I tinker with bubbles that are shallow.
Yet on mind’s night dawns a moon
A crescent scythe lulls me to swoon.
A lure and a call beckons, “Wake now,
Near the Sun is assigned our rendezvous”
I shed my wrinkle and now gaze everywhere
All wast ever Thou, O Mother beyond all compare!
PS: Our humble offering to the Divine Mother, on day 5 of Navratri 2018