---

Medhu Singh

On Vasuki’s hood

Brahma-muhurta, the pre-dawn hour, midnight-blue like Shiva’s throat. He points an unseen finger & you witness how silence unfolds layers of the koshas. Grossness of the body– transiently forgotten, constancy of breath– controlled meditatively, the mind’s chatter– quietened consciously. The intellect’s discernment– constructed steadily. But rarely, does one get an elusive glimpse of bliss.

Ajna chakra—
bumblebees of thought
flit by

---

About the Author

Madhu Singh‘s poetry is inspired by nature and experiences gained by traveling. She is experienced in the IT sector and in her free time dabbles in free verse and Oriental poetry. She resides in New Delhi, India.