Poetry For Me Poem by Arvind Srivastava

Poetry for me was a moonlit night, a sweet talk
It was a story of grandmothers
It was a Chunardhani swaying in the fields

Poetry comes for me even today
Sometimes in Basra, sometimes in Baghdad
Sometimes in Gaza, sometimes in Donask
It cries
It tells about the poor health of the earth

Poetry will come for me tomorrow too
It will recite an elegy, it will sing a mourning song
Then maybe only poetry will remain on earth!