Like a penitent pigeon, grief has settled again on the ledge;
Moondust has lingered and shone in vain on the ledge.
Past countless midnights I have dimmed the waiting lantern,
The dying flames in lungs have left a stain on the ledge.
Which arborist of the kingdom has deadheaded my fingers
When graffiti of wooers howl a refrain on the ledge?
The revellers kissed the tears on the sand when she drowned,
For hours she was pummeled and drained on the ledge.
The moaning winds have borne witness to rise of the traitors,
Flayed limbs of the credulous writhe in pain on the ledge.
Uma you who flutter and gasp for syllables within a couplet,
Scribblers of the times gush like the rain on the ledge.
One Grain Amongst the Storm 
This fluttering and gasping for syllables within couplets is proof indeed that you are a master of the ghazal. It has the stamp of Uma – as I’ve come to expect. I hope that this glimpse of life on the (l)edge opens the floodgates.
Of late, it has been like someone has deadheaded my fingers. Thanks for your kind wishes, Bruce.
I am happy to see a new ghazal by you. My heart is broken with the story, but still touched by beauty that you always weave throughout.
I am afraid that is when you write a ghazal. Many thanks, my friend.
You may be humble to say you are fluttering and gasping for syllables within a couplet but, this ghazal brings out your master-craftsmanship in words and emotions.
That’s a heartening compliment from someone who has a way with words himself.
So delicately have you penned down the pain and horror ! And that delicacy allowed me to keep my eyes open and soak in the pain drop by drop. it’s easy to describe something so barbaric in harsh, cruel and condemning words but the way you dealt it with is unique. I have unshed tears in my eyes. But then your style makes you what you are. good to read you after a long gap.
That someone like you could have felt the throbbing pain and rage underneath is not surprising. Thank you ever so much.
Such beautiful anguish, Uma. Flowing language and superb imagery
Thank you, Derrick. I am happy it touched you.
I feel compelled to revisit this piece many times, Uma, so powerful is its imagery. It is masterful. So good to have your words flowing again for however long they last.
Actually, the first couplet kept haunting me for weeks. Then yesternight, I sat and wrote the rest of it, and it seems to have hit the mark. Thanks for the encouragement, Sandra.
And what of our critics? Do they writhe too? I sure hope so. LOL!
Love your gorgeous prose, Uma!
You remind me of Voltaire’s prayer to God to grant him but one wish: make his enemies ridiculous!
May God bless your heart for that compliment, Susie!
Thank you! Voltaire and I would have been great buddies. 😂
I verily believe that to be the case!
A beautiful poem. As long as I have written I have not heard of the ghazal. I is quite a wonderful way to express such deep emotions and to convey them in such a passionate way. You have done it more than justice here. Thanks for the read.
Gahazals have the power to harness intractable emotions, say the unsayable. Your assessment makes me proud. Thanks a ton.
So happy I could learn yet something new. Even at my age, learning never ceases and amazes me yet. 🙂
This was so sad and touching….and yet managed to be beautiful as well! You really are a talented writer. Keep it up!
The beauty of sadness is the stamp of a true ghazal. The encouragement means a lot.
always beautiful imagery, Uma!
gasp and flutter on, please 🙂
Many thanks, my friend.
This is beautiful Uma, a wonderful rhythm and I love the imagery of the light – the molten moons, the dimming lantern, the dying flames.
Thanks, Andrea. You have felt the poem with a poet’s heart.
That’s a ghazal I have missed so long, Uma. Harsh sadness of your words clutches at my heart, but the meter, the rhyme speaks ‘this too shall pass’. Thank you for the treat!
I have been writing scarcely, and I have this illusion that my ghazals allow me to say more in much less. Thank you ever, Inese.
I don’t know whether it is ghazal or your poetic gift, but your poetry – and prose for that matter – says much more than mere words.
As Hemingway had said, sometimes I have good luck and write better than I can! You made my day with that comment.
May this good luck stay with you always and expand to all spheres of your life! 🙂
Thank you, and wish the same to you too!
Thank you, Uma!