Pallid Thirst of the Spirit
Poem By Hillol Ray
At the end of poetry summit, last summer,
I was enchanted by the mirages of Kalahari Desert-
As the host committee took me on a sightseeing,
And I couldn’t refuse the cordial offer to revert!
My witless Bedouin soul relished this golden idea,
And jumped onto the bandwagon to take the tour-
But the mirage kept me on toe as her follower,
Towards the crossings where the rivers moor!
Banks of these rivers, with breaths of the dews,
And serenity under the quiet twilight’s grace-
Made me humbled, even though I stumbled,
And I watched the sodded grass with a trace!
Upon the widowed winds around the mirage,
I tried to quench my voracious thirst-
But echoes of children without laughter roared,
And I wandered whom to comfort, me or them, first?
To me the present world has nothing to offer,
And the desert is the home of mirages for sure-
While the tears mingle with the thirsty travelers,
Across the cactus in early Spring that loves to endure!
My pallid thirst of the spirit welcomes the mirage,
In Kalahari Desert and its so beautiful around-
Where I think my life and its remaining years
Will lose me from tears without any sound!!
“Milestone”
January 2, 2024
© Copyright January 2,2024 by Hillol Ray