Flowered

Placed in the midst
Of a twilight zone
My vision went hazy,
My fancy disoriented,
And while my failed dreams
Were in desperation
I had a glimpse
Of the loveliest of faces,
Under a white veil.

I stole a glance of the loveliness
Of the countenance benign,
While lamenting
Over the distorted reflections
On the fragmented glass remains
Of my dreams
Of phenomenal dimension,
Which I had fondled
And renewed over the years.

Through your white veil
I stole a glimpse
Of a fascinating amalgam
Of beauty and compassion;
A flowerbed
Of exclusive red roses
Of dewy-freshness,
Clad in a thin pall
Of a late winter snow
Of Kashmir Valley.

Through your white veil
I had a glimpse
Of the last oasis
Of my life,
In the midst of
A harsh and fiery desert.
Through that white veil
I rejoiced the sight
Of a gorgeous painting,
Drawn by a ceremony
Of profound colours.

Under the white veil
I again had a glimpse
Of a fairy of Ajanta fresco,
Full of exquisite tenderness
And love of beauty.
Yet, always with a suspicion
Of something deeper
And transcendental.

Beneath the white veil
That embellished your face
Like a patch of snow cladding
The upper reaches of your abode,
I had a glimpse
Of your soil and scenery
Of reflection and reality
In full bloom.