Hidden

Can you see me from there?
For here I lie, cocooned
In the faint memory
Of your fading half-smile:
Half-hidden, let me be.

Can you see me from there?
I am the chaos, oh!
The riot of colour
On the still-wet canvas:
A stain, a blob, a blur.

Can you see me from there?
On nights you strain your eyes
To squint at the night sky
I am Supernova:
Dazzling, before I die.

Can you see me from there?
But wait – I forget this
This sublime truth, my dove:
That I am in you and
You in me, bound in love.

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Anne Adarsh

Anne Adarsh is a radiologist by profession but finds herself repeatedly returning to her first love in all things. Poetry. A self-confessed Recluse also blessed (or cursed perhaps!), with an insatiable curiosity to learn new things, writing to her, means a landscape in her mind's eye, to which she can always escape to, whenever life closes in on her.

Latest posts by Anne Adarsh (see all)

• My Companion - 21 Feb 2022
• Hidden - 24 Feb 2021
• Lamentations: An Exercise in Mourning - 18 Dec 2020