Chitralekha Sreejai is an aspiring writer with a deep passion in eastern and western literature, art and music. She published her first book of poems titled ‘The Divine Hand In The Dark ‘ with India books, Kerala. Some of her writings have appeared in some of the widely popular India based magazines like Woman’s Era and Alive (Delhi press magazines). She has contributed articles for the online issues of The Khaleej Times (UAE) .Her poem ‘Adrift’ was recently published by the Writer’s Ezine ,an online magazine and was chosen for their ‘Exceptional poem award’.She currently resides in Letterkenny, Ireland with her family. She earned her PhD in Sanskrit from India.
The walls look bleak, plastered in white,
White curtains, light seeping through,
Beds and mattresses hold
The smell of medicine and the heat of the body.
The chill of a sudden wind stirs me from sleep,
From under the pile of sheets that cover my dreams;
Sunlight slides in softly through the leaves,
Through the brown tree trunks they ooze,
And through the windows peep,
Alternating in dark and light with the breeze,
Leaving speckles of black shadows of leaves;
Glistening silver streaks of cobwebs
And a whole spectrum of colours beyond;
Amber, golden, ruby leaves falling with the wind
From that sleepy jungle of trees,
Blue kingfishers diving to the pools of green water
And the sweep of the wind bringing music of the leaves.
The voice whispered from far,
I catch the echo as the sound falls on my heart;
A transient encounter, a gentle movement that come and depart.
Your love can make me well;
I can wake in delight once more;
When the sleep is too long,
The invisible presence beside,
It can gather and restore me well,
When I draw in the breath that you breathe out for me.
The reverie shall be broken in a moment,
Soon too will vanish these fragments of the lovely forms;
Yet each day this far I roam,
This thought, this reverie shall be
My hope, my comfort.
My soul awakens, my spirits soar;
If a fine spirit dwells in every flower,
I have begun to feel that pulse of life
I spoke I laughed, my happiest hours.
Oh wanderer of my dreams!
The reverie shall never die within me.