Jyothy Sreedhar

The sound of your voice

I was like that moon then, alone in the dark.

The stars blinked, my wait was tranquil.

I got withered away with every snor of earth.

And I kept searching for my tender voice.

It was mine… ‘yoursly mine’…


The sun drained my faint eyes.

But he failed to kill my dreams,

my search, my wait, my patience

and the love that was embedded…

The fantasy that I had painted.


My wait was still for the cuckoo that sang

when i got hushed by the scorching sun.

It sang all day and lulled me asleep

and made me dream of a calm next day.

I slept unaware of the cracks within.


The cuckoo hid in the breezy night

not waiting for me, not seeing my wait.

The stars kept blinking and the sky was dark

I was a moon then alone in the group.

And I kept waiting…behind the clouds…


The cuckoo was somewhere though near…

and I waited till it was dawn.

It was not a mere voice

that I missed all these hours,

It echoes in my deepest blues.


A hot day steps in.

I take my oar to invisibility,

sail pas’t the black, blue sky inner and outer

with the mighty nightly silence

ringing in the sound of your voice…