Shayari Bazar

A vase of flowers in a window frame.A house of gentle light amid dark leaves.An ecstasy so sharp it feels like anguish,The pull that makes our beeline an ellipse.No transcendental morning’s inspirationSo ravishes the things we never see.We hear for all our lives a silent musicTo which we dance unknowing through our time.And even when we die, there is a beautyOlder than the cold December stars,A part of us that waits behind the darknessTo take us once again into its arms