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Sunday, March 27, 2016

Poetry Challenge : A New Week,A New Poem (3)

The days are passing in a gush of sultry winds and echoing moonshine.I have never observed spring so deeply before.Nor have I let the poet inside my open the stone gates and come,breathe,take in the sweet air around and rage the prison walls to the ground.He was exasperated of all this,for so long a time had I forgotten him that he stopped speaking to my soul.The last time I ever wrote substantial "poetry" was when I was 5 years old.And a decade later,now is when I write again.It is all so thrilling,it creates so much - so much of pain and liberation and light and air and misty winds and raindrops and worlds ; worlds deeper inside.

This,like most of my other poems was written in the middle of the night when all I can remember was that I smiled and took up the pen and then I was basically silent as I watched the pen write.It is quite inevitable to me by now ; it always happens that way.


Flow

In every light year
In a trillion raindrops
In each of a millennium 
In every spark of a century 
In every turn of a decade
Every year,every week,every lazy Sunday
Sun-soaked or shivering
Everyday in plays
Valid or foul
In every hour,every minute
In every fraction of a moment
You depart - I see you fading
Like an old pastel sketch 

Or a letter burnt
Whose ashes now in silvered gowns
Flow through and over time
You depart - that is why words return
You depart- that is why poetry returns
You return burn and excruciation 
You depart - as birth is born  
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