There's Home

There’s a place somewhere I’ve never been,

There’s a house, a street I’ve never seen,

Where a little robin sings for me

So I may find my way.

There’s someplace somewhere I truly long,

A place called home where I belong,

A small backyard where I wrote my song

That I hope to sing one day.

There’s peace somewhere I’ve never known,

And a million memories of my own,

Where there’s a beating heart, there’s a hope

That I may find my way.

Though dismantled our world may be,

Where-on-earth you go is home to me,

When the day is here that I long to see,

All I ask for is to stay.

There are roads to go and dreams to see,

Yet it’s only home where I long to be,

Oh may the robin’s song soon find me

  So I may find my way.


Copyright Delilah Das 

Mirror

What’s silver and shows us our vessels?

What’s silver and knows not our depth?

What’s silver and often misunderstood-?

For it has a secret well kept.

What’s silver and often accused

Of shallow perception and ruthless honesty?

What’s silver and often charged

For its flawed insight and superficiality?

Who is this culprit we believe we know,

That we claim is silver for it appears so?

Yet here we claim to see beyond

 The superficial—what an irony, though!

What’s silver and shows us its vessel?

What’s silver whose depth is unseen-?

By eyes that claim flawless profundity,

What’s silver but shades of green?


Copyrighted by Delilah Das

The Light is Going Out

They tell me to look,

But the darkness is too bright,

So I squint my eyes,

And look for a light.

They tell me to hear,

But the silence is too loud,

Though a mirror shines at me,

The light is going out.

They tell me to feel,

But the rawness is too dead,

There’s not much space to think,

For thoughts have filled my head.

They tell me to see,

But they do not tell me how,

The moon though once was bright,

The light is going out.

They tell me to move on,

From what, and to where shall I go?

For the road that will take me

Is but made of snow.

They tell me the sun

At dawn will the sky shroud,

But when the day meets its end,

The light’s still going out.

They tell me it deludes—

The scar that blinds my eyes,

There is but water within

A frozen lake of ice.

They tell me to smile

When life’s sent forth to sprout,

But smile as bright I might

The light is going out.


Copyrighted by Delilah Das

The Sailor

The sailor arrived, one day, like the wind,

Carrying a still, sagacious countenance,

He anchored his child, wiped its floor,

Brushed a hand across his auburn face,

And on he looked with fetching eyes,

At a cerulean span and the far off lands,

That summoned fond days of his voyages,

And a hundred flames that burned strong still.

They knew not of his desires, his delight,

Of his wisdom and of his latent light,

That like an ocean of calm waves built within,

Serenaded his heart and tamed his eyes.

To them he was but a mere man, quiet,

That beamed amiably through the sun,

But at sundown, lay still on the sand,

And with weary eyes beheld the stars.

The wind blew down and stroked his thoughts,

And caressed his feet with reverence,

For it knew of the vicious tales,

Of storms and hail and the sailor’s plight,

Of despair, of hope, of fleeting fear,

Of gold and sand, of dark and light,

Of strain, struggle, twilight and dawn,

And all that made the sailor wise.

Copyrighted by Delilah Das

Through An Onyx Shard Of Glass

A night, not far ago, I sat alone,

I sat in the dormant wind,

Listening to unhurried heartbeats,

Sounding off like the crickets

On a murky voiceless night.

My eyes with its alien sight,

Through an onyx shard of glass,

Gazed up at a glittery mess

Against the inky backdrop,

And stared past the light years,

Then trailed a course, that which,

Of finite breaths was made,

And time measured in heartbeats,

Of a descending earth, en route

To destinations unheard of.

And of nowhere came live the wind,

Seemed to me it wanted my word,

But I had none, I told it so,

And it blew harder still as I

Sat alone one night, not far ago.

Copyrighted by Delilah Das