LETTER  FROM  BHANJAVIHAR

Tell me dear who here

Is so complete, so full ?

Why are we so bound together

in words as well as in empty spaces

even in the absence of a fixed rule ?

When each one seems lost in a quest—

Like, like…

the wounds of the Earth in search

of a balm from rain;

hurtled winds in search of an intimate sojourn

between the scented breasts of a sky;

the mad  moon in search of  the  lover Sun

who promised to fulfill dreams with lots of fun ;

the river in quest of a warm embrace

at the mouth 

from the recently-grown- inattentive sea;

in the womb of the flower, the blinded bee;

and the day light, beneath the dark fragrant

locks of  the night

 in search of rainbow and long lost heat;

flow of blood and tears  

in search of the touch

of the saree soaked in longings;

half-burnt mind in search of the palm

of green leaves where  pores

write long histories of lost love;

and storms of the day bury heads

in the lap of jasmines of dewy night

like simple, harmless doves

shrinking deeper  into holes of big fright.

You appear tonight in moon beams rushing

thro’ hyphens and dashes between leaves

who are busy knotting the locks of the sweet night

with aeriel roots from excited boughs

flung to both sides to sway before to a sleep deep

they softly the limbs of this boby they douse.

Words crack and crumble

as waves of agony rise to merge miles

of poor population camping outside,

caught in the fury of ceaseless rain

and  hunger’s merciless pain.

Silence these impatient cries dear

with a simple, soft look from the corner of your eyes,

with a small curve at the edge of your lips

as the moon into a yawning , blue abyss slowly dies.

Comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi

10/09/14