Cling to dawning’s drape, as hails the sun’s
revealing rays, a slow ascent, night is undone.
Wringing in, as rainfall on September flowers
belongs the day, as soaking unseen bowers-
hallowed, hidden dens from branching gables,
place of passion’s secrets –Jana’s cradle.
Then, in reflecting off one lover’s eyes,
light that signal darkness’s demise
screams the sounds, if they were voiced and free,
subsume this moment – come, belong to me.