Shahid

on quiet winter nights
such as these
through muffled ears
i listen to your voice
whose echoes
fill the hollow caves within.
i walk across the jhelum
with feet tucked in blankets
to where i might find you
looking at a life gone by.
in all pictures, there you are
looking slantingly away
perhaps at your “half-inch himalayas”.
i hold your words
on the tips of my fingers
where they dance like morning dew
at the sight of the sun 
and as they trail off
one by one
lost before they reach the palm
i find them afresh
on a moist cheek
in this season of dryness.

give me your longings, your love
your loss, shahid
it might empty a hole 
in an exiled heart.