When I Met My Muse Poem by Saroj Padhi

In the dead of the night she came
and stood before me
like a thin stream of Moon beams
rustling thro' thick foliage of a tree
with a feather-like pen
in her hand and whispered 'DId you call me? '
I was in jitters with thumping beats
and eyes smeared with blood from heart's fresh wounds
she leaned to me like a half Moon
resting on the heaving chest of an overflowing river,
I took her hand but she took over.

She moved her pen thro' my fingers
she breathed like the soft wind
to bemuse my heart's broken reeds
jotted down the story of my skipped beats,
my soul aches, lost sleep and sad retreats;

I didn't know when I was in love with her;
she wiped my tears and assuaged
me with the stories of the sad wide world,
I lost traces of my own grief in the ocean
of our love with its changing waves, blue and emerald.