By Shantanu Anand
Do lightbulbs in late-night offices look like stars to the sky? Do the heavens wonder where the burning is coming from? ii. Picture it: a wall lined with torn chocolate wrappers With a child in the corner wondering where all the sweetness has gone. iii. A robot on the highway Hands out sunflowers to passing cars When it rusts, its joints get stuck They break it down and sell its parts. iv. Who knows aloneness like midnight? Who sees sunlight in faraway stars? Who knows sameness like midnight? Who befriends the emptiness hidden in the dark? v. Whisper a song to your pillow Hide it inside its folds Tuck it into its corners Blow it into its soul. vi. A poet stands by the roadside Hands out books to passers-by When he dies they burn the pages And dance around the bonfire. vii. Midnight sees its reflection In the windshield of a burning car It plucks out its eyelashes And wishes upon a shooting star. viii. Write yourself a poem Put it in a jar Soak its words in midnight Let the poem become a song. ix. Picture it: a black wall lined with stars And a million people asking if the dawn will ever come.