Where am I, really?
I try to find the tresses
Of my being in the dew drops
Of a winter dawn.
Where am I, really?
I try to search for the fragments
Of my soul in the soaked grasses
Of a monsoon dusk.
Where am I, really?
I try to discover the particles
Of my existence in the urban lights
Of a summer night.
Then the rainbow hues
Of a butterfly's wings, call me
And spread the glitters of my life
Across the black and white horizon.
.
- Ipsita Mitra Pupu
27/06/2021
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Tender
PoetryA Poetry Collection by an Everywoman about an Everywoman... About her brain, her body, her wishes, her needs, her psychology, her intellectuality, her love, her pain, her everyday battels, her scars, her strength, her weaknesses, her concious, her u...
