Saturday, November 26, 2011

of life, death and what remains

A white old woman, oh had you... seen in my eyes
the love for shining wrinkles?
you careless o’ children... of long lost futures
why not my lips as red as yours?
my thought, as dreams in butterfly
squanders across the valley and sing...


 The high held waving meadows laugh in sync
a sound of some like flute
reverberates... at the end of that other bend of mountain
this sound lie, mountain lie, all lie
for it should have been...
the symphony of running water




 Colours spread across.... the impatient sky
comes and fades like fireflies
oh mighty misty chaukhamba
showering in first sunshine
lend a little heat to my zipper
my blood’s cold and lips all parched
craving for your melting icecaps


Away as we trundle
across the narrow yellow grasses
my feet can’t keep off flying
as Monal and wild hen cross by







Sifted low light falling
at the gorge near Chopta
run me to that mystery lake
where eyes forbid to meet
and voices confound each other




 so comatose I am
till the innermost creaking bones
looking at the gleaming...
of you toiling faces
too perplexed I am
or ashamed at my own imperfection



Dear o Mandakini what fishes
are you carrying in womb?
some sour, some sweet
or just offshoots... of present into future
at Sangam, where you meet your sister
don’t forget the uptown folks you leave

Some living, other remained mortified
they then  resurrect... into other life forms
nature balances on wheels of its own cycle





you carcass o yellow butterfly
still bedazzled I am...no sad, no remorse
in your sheer nakedness
a dance of... life, death and what remains 





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