of life, death and what remains

A white old woman, oh had you... seen in my eyes

the love for shining wrinkles?

you careless o’ children... of long lost futures

why not my lips as red as yours?

my thought, as dreams in butterfly

squanders across the valley and sing...

 

The high held waving meadows laugh in sync

a sound of some like flute

reverberates... at the end of that other bend of mountain

this sound lie, mountain lie, all lie

for it should have been...

the symphony of running water

 

Colours spread across.... the impatient sky

comes and fades like fireflies

oh mighty misty chaukhamba

showering in first sunshine

lend a little heat to my zipper

my blood’s cold and lips all parched

craving for your melting icecaps

Away as we trundle

across the narrow yellow grasses

my feet can’t keep off flying

as Monal and wild hen cross by

Sifted low light falling

at the gorge near Chopta

run me to that mystery lake

where eyes forbid to meet

and voices confound each other

 so comatose I am

till the innermost creaking bones

looking at the gleaming...

of you toiling faces

too perplexed I am

or ashamed at my own imperfection

Dear o Mandakini what fishes

are you carrying in womb?

some sour, some sweet

or just offshoots... of present into future

at Sangam, where you meet your sister

don’t forget the uptown folks you leave

Some living, other remained mortified

they then  resurrect... into other life forms

nature balances on wheels of its own cycle

you carcass o yellow butterfly

still bedazzled I am...no sad, no remorse

in your sheer nakedness

a dance of... life, death and what remains