Wednesday, 10 June 2009

The Chords of Absence

For now I am left with memories
funeral pyres lit to temper
the steep waters, brown blooded and scattered with garlands
Vishnu, Shiva, Ganesh painted bright
the ghats gentle shadow
awash, bathed, lamenting in singed hair
deep the drums of ETERNAL resound
flat and full and faithful

I see in white and grey
turmeric hands- hashish clouds ascending
babbling spitting mouths of dry chested pilgrims
cracked chappals

saffron dipped cotton floats like deep sycamore leaves turning

this is no sanctuary
where vultures claw
chimes and bells lay waste to the breeze
the sun spills its belly and collapses
watering the river in gold and bronze

these bracelets shall remove me
these trinkets steer
where the wind and sun and rain abound
where are your watchful eyes
the eyes in pine, eucalyptus, oak
flooded canvasses adorned by Roerich
orange pekoe and morning roses scent
dying tales spoken in books

receive me, broken, sodden, blistered
with dust I anoint you
with rain your tears baptize me

I look up, and see trees
opium figurines replace branches with djinns
their arms ravage me
purged breath becomes a song I sing
for I laugh and I laugh and I laugh again
to death be told no mysteries
in deep moss there are no sounds
sleep wakes and sleep wanders

guard me in the wandering ether
through hypnotic flames, flickering blue
as the butterflies lull me to sleep
look not away, for I smile

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