Whose house is this?
whose house is this?
silence crawls on night slowly like bugs
I stretch my limbs under warm woolen rugs,
a shrill cry of the moth and whistle of house cricket
dueling under my bed to have their accounts set,
The sound of feasting ants from a slit of wall
half sleepy I hear lover flea's invitation call,
two pigeons making love near ventilation hole
my existence feels affiliation with nature's whole,
a spark of the firefly in the black night
reminds a fall of star once shining bright,
a mosquito murmurs a secret in my ears
an expansion of universe my eager heart hears,
a house within the house within the house I live
mine is not mine this foolish mind can't believe
poem by Mukesh Raval
Added by Poetry Lover
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