Tuesday, 21 April 2020

[Poem] Prayer

NaPoWriMo-21 GloPoWriMo- 21


The dyadic connection begins each morning—

“Don’t open your eyes upon waking.

Rub your palms together.

Hold them over your eyes.

Open them to the world with prayers,”

Mother would warn each morning.

“Don’t simply step upon Mother Earth 

As you rise from your bed.

Apologize. Give your thanks

To the sun and moon and earth’s kindness.”

 

Thus prayer lay entwined with the acts of the day:

The after-shower prostration, the whispered incantations

The evening bhajan, the prayer before sleep,

The countless observations and rituals of nearly every day—

those were the ordinary days of my childhood.

 

As I grew, it became a constant colloquy,

This quiet parley with divinity

Over all things grand and petty:

The hovering eagle with sacred wings

A cloak, a tether, a wisp of fragrance, 

A rope tied to a clanging bell.

It is a force that gathers strength

Through constant use.

It is the source of all compassion

The heart of incredible peace-

The profound core

 That feeds and swells with oblation, salutation, supplication.


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The dyadic connection begins each morning -

'Don’t open your eyes upon waking
Rubs together your palms  
Hold them over your eyes
Open them to the world with prayers'
Mother would warn every morning.

'Don’t just step on mother earth
As you jump out of bed
Apologize, say your thanks
To the sun and moon and earth’s kindness.'

Thus, prayer lay entwined with the acts of the day.
The after shower prostration. The incantations.
The evening bhajan and the prayer before bed.
The countless observations and rituals of almost all days-
Those were the typical days of my childhood.

As I grew it became a constant colloquy
This parley with divinity
For all things grand and petty.
The hovering eagle with sacred wings.
It is a cloak, a tether, a wisp of fragrance,
A rope to a clanging bell.

It’s a force that gathers strength
From constant use
It is the source of all compassion
It is the heart of incredible peace-
The profound core
That feeds and swells with constant oblation, salutation, supplication.

Tuesday, 7 April 2020

[Poem] Ekphraistic Poem


Day 6
An Ekphrastic Poem based on Jheronimus Bosch’s Painting The Garden of Earthly Delights
 
I am a child clement
I have no need for raiment
I am the child of god, the father of man
Before Noah’s arc
Before the flood
And the fear it instilled
Before Satan talked or walked
Before Eve’s flagrancy
Before One became Three?
Heaven, Earth, Hell
After the first man fell.

If it were a fall why then a ball?
Why the wild party, the orgy?
Why the vagrant Profligacy?
Every man, animal, being
Indulging in amorous coupling?

What if I drew a wrong analogy?
A gross misreading of a great allegory?
Perhaps the painting is from right to left?

What if I am the consciousness that sleeps as you dream up galaxies?
Or what if I am extra-terrestrial
Armed with machines industrial
In a world where men and women are equal
I gave light, music, I built transport buildings, museums.

But perhaps man fell 
As he is wont to fall
Every mortal greed stems from the flesh
The centre couldn’t hold?

In a blood thirsty virus’ strangle hold
The World burned whole
                   And
Manu or Noah was United
With the Pluralistic One?

Saturday, 4 April 2020

[Poem] Dreamscapes


Trudging the yellow sand
While the sea stands -
A massive wall of undulating alum
I gather pearls from open clam
Shells, that lie scattered in the fog
Like cranberries in a bog

I am a boat unfettered, free
Floating upon a dancing sea
With senses lulled by the tender breeze
I join dolphins in unihemispheric sleep

I wake to the sound of thunder and lightning
In a boat that resembles a drum with no holding
I career this way and that upon a violent sea
While rain falls in torrents around me
My scream is an echo that floats in from afar
Through squinched eyes I spy a boatman with an oar
My spirits rise, perhaps he would steer me to the shore?
He gives out a blood curdling howl, I tumble and fall to the ocean floor.


[Short Story] The Six Invocations

               The slack message from her co-founder P. Shukla, chimed at 2:47 AM.   “I’m done, K. Can’t seem to k...