The Drifter

The water has fallen as the tide is low;
From somewhere at times a cold breeze blows.
The moon shies away and hides by the clouds,
And in the waters crouched its shadow.

The streetlights glitter as pearls engraved,
On a C-like precious Queen’s necklace.
And a little boat sails slow in pace,
In the sleeping sea so quite as a grave.

Seated scattered are some night owls,
Gazing the waters away from the shore,
By the seawall curve and long;
Each bemused in a world of their own.

Eternal lovers or diehard friends,
Or vagabonds whom no one tends,
Or vendors selling coffee, tea and cigarettes;
With the serenity everybody blends.

Sitting alone just a lonely soul,
By the waves on the seawall,
Lost in solitude plays a tune,
And his guitar spells magic on the world.

His voice stirs and rules everyone,
As he starts to sing a song,
Of a mother who has left his son,
And he hopes he’d not be forgotten.

Then he sings that he feels scared,
That he would be lost in the crowd,
That he’d not be able to even reach back home,
And she’d not hear him though he’d shout so loud.

What pains him, no one knows;
With the night his blue grows.
He sounds as if he feels hollow,
Dipped in fear of loss and sorrow.

He shifts his chords as he switches his songs;
The listeners appalled as they try to sing along,
From a distance,trying not to hurt his devotion,
As the drifter wanders in his world of isolation.

His song enthralls and touches the souls,
And in a cool misty night melodies pour.
Chasing his dreams raging a war,
Fluttering his wings in the sky he floats.

He sings of glory and love and life;
And his tune enchants the entire Marine Drive.
And hours pass by in a blink of an eye;
And he fades away without bidding a goodbye.

Where he came from no one cares;
Neither do they bother where he disappears.
Just a moment of ecstasy is what they share,
Admits the music, the night and the mystic air.



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