Tension Poem by Saroj Padhi

As I wait for the new moon in the dark
on the rooftop, under shower of secret dew
the wind sings but another sound I hark
of plants drinking water, sprouting leaves new;
nearer I go to lean to the scented flowers
to find out how they feel in the dark hours,
these heaving bosoms of the earth softly say
‘we wait for the sun, for love's ample showers
and in dark under tension as we mostly sway
we love light sprinkled from heaven's bowers',
I too listen to drunk bees enmeshed inside petals
mumbling about wild sucks and love's sweet fires;
dark has its creative tension and throughout night
they get wet with longings before satiating desires.