Night Gazing

NIGHT GAZING
To travel or trudge in darkness
thrills a dull vacuous mind.
Either seated near a bus window
Or in a late night walk to home,
the eyes often glance at empty lanes
and silent disturbing  doors.
The lonely street lamp burns
With limited glow and whelming calmness
 Spreading the vacuum and glancing at the moon shaded trees.
  Noisy insects do buzz with zest
ignorant of its short life.

After a senseless crowded day
Many minds may lay
Under the moaning fans
Entranced in wavy sleep
Or webbed in salty tresses
of spicy woman.
New buds bloom
in such wet semenic nights.
The star born breeze ruffles the dirty blankets
Of roadside dwellers, scattered in sleep
with shapeless battered vessels and mystery bundles.
Tramps and hags dip into dreamless sleep
with rolled up dogs and fugitive rats.
Some roads are wet
with the washed waters of overworked utensils
from hot eateries.
The locked shops smile
Through the grey sleepy wooden shutters
evoking the scenes of the busy day.

What is not there in night?
Why man crawls from darkness
Even a watchman’s whistle has some music in it.
The hooting owls and falling leaves
Speak only to restless minds.
But For a tired traveler
nights bring strange sensations,
a sort of cosmic silence and blank loss
that makes him feel the lonely soul
And empty life