Every Sunset Is A Promise

the dew was unusual,

seeped through to her skin,

the layers giving up this time,

she got chills

every time the breeze played pranks,
with her unkempt hair
and a sloppy pallu,

that december afternoon;

as the slant rays shivered,

lost in the orange and blue skies,

a thought crossed his mind -

if the sunset is around, 

can the dark be far behind?

as the dust settled,

and the noise faded, 

making way for an eerie quiet,

the long shadows spelled out
the end was near,

as god was in a deep sleep,

as the breeze played
hide and seek,

patted the wafts
on their numb cheeks,

and shook his spine of belief,

her palm was eclipsed by his,

but her fingers sank in,
firmly clasped his, 

and her unshaken eyes met his,
as if to say,

every sunset is a promise,

the universe's promise
for a new sunrise, 

for hope and sunshine

© sashikant mohanty