DECEMBER   RAIN

December’s drizzle dampens the pyre of memory

glowing like a moon behind  dense evening mist

exuding wisps of silent gloom without any heat,

reviving that old fire in one past beguiling eye that

had stormed the sea of my love

throwing me away and  smashing my dreams’ surfing fleet ;

and years after…

it has sullied life of those slum dwellers under  a fiery flame

who having lost place of their living, play violence’s dirty game,

pelting stones, inviting  the wrath of bullets and tear gases

that is soon mourned by the river’s heavy-hearted wind

crawling on old knee without any visible solution to find .

Tell your drizzle to stop, December

stop putting us in the throes of bloody violence in every form,

be it the unthinking bayonets  of Maoists or Bodo extremists

or lurid silence of fellow humans when someone is doing harm ;

after all you know how it pains to live under such chilly rain

when the new year is just around the corner

allow at least a few dreams to flow thro’ this shivering pen .

comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi, 30/12/14