A Poem by Rudro. Poetic vision: when the eyes write poetry. Search walks, meets the river, suddenly the sea appears, Search searches the curly hairs of waves, comes face to face, with the faces of murky water. Emptiness overstates on the field, in the autumn, cracked grains nowadays cracks down the memory lane. Rain and cloud blur the dream, dream of cloud bewilders the search ongoing; in the mangrove down the grove of men search walks on. Track the man , who broke the chain, of the public in republic, the simurgh in living being. Where is the bird? Seems nowhere to be seen. Search is on ,search is on, eyes soar over the wings, air and horizon. Where to seek, the bird of being? In the green nest of old willow? Where is the bird, where is the being? Search is on search is on, here is the unfathomed lives in three drops of ocean: and the remaining drop? Oh! It is the field , LINED with countries and cemeteries, with the swords of black and white with the intoxication of wrongdoings, with a few fused in opinions of arsenic, And those , face to face, locking horns, locking claws. Search is on, in the conduit of time in the last line of green, in the aimless sky, in the shadows in the veins search runs. The essence of poem as understood by Kakoli. 5.20 pm 07/07/2014 Ottawa, Canada.
Posted on: Mon, 07 Jul 2014 21:35:17 +0000