Midnight Prayer It is not simply For evening breeze, Dark pond, lustrous inky Sky, hum of crickets, Cool grass, evensong Of creatures, that she Emerges. It is the lure Of soul awakening, Nudging, prodding, Drawing her into depths Visible only at night. She Roams moon-soaked fields, Slips in the swirling river. Awakened from death, She finds herself Where she started— On bloody knees, halfway Between dusk and dawn.
Prasanta Verma‘s poetry has been published in Relief Journal, Barren Magazine, Bramble Lit Mag, and is upcoming in Without a Doubt, a New York Quarterly anthology. Verma tweets @VermaPrasanta, and feel free to stay connected with her by signing up for her newsletter at www.prasantaverma.com.
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