>> Tuesday, August 28, 2007
I’d lain on a weedy slope, tattered at creases,
and the taste of life, still sour on my lips ..
It wasn’t life I ached for, but the aftermath -
A languid surrender, which might pass for
vague contentment or something like peace…
He stood defined, silhouetted against pallid sky
looking down at me sans censure or approbation
slipping in slowly, a figure without shadow -
I sank deeply with no impulse for resistance
he led me into regions, of fabulous delight.
I felt being porous and the last that was left of
the whole concoction, which had once been
‘a self’ was running out then, drop by drop….
bleeding down into a creek, feeding a river
which sparkled gaily, in the monsoon rain…
Loudly and robustly, he’d joined me there
filling his lungs, as he soaked in the view -
"Beautiful sight, isn’t it?"
I remember thinking that, yes,
It was a beautiful sight…
I'd tried to smile, to breathe and stand
without clinging onto the stone wall
Now I’m prone to think
it was the velocity in life, which had undid me
the Old Testament decisiveness, of it all.
Beyond the trivial importunities of being
with him at last, was novel transformation
to function without appeal and evaluation
terrible swift words or reconsideration -
dreamily radiant, where all questions
are answered, and all riddles solved …
Note : Inspired by - this