Sunday, March 13, 2016

Ananya S. Guha- A Poem


I haven't yet taken
mountains by surprise
only birds hover
at feet, and the wild flower
grows in bits and pieces
on head of yearnings
as poetry rivets to another
world in a country where
a crescendo builds on heaps
of ruins. Artifacts of  life
are slowly withering Lord
and history's stymied voice
is distraught. Yet the hills
where I live look calm, unruflled
as Spring's wind enters into their
hollowed bodies of time. The rocks
stand erect, with undercut bellies.
I watch slightly baffled at the noise
whose country is this?
how do I prove my love
for a derelict nation whose
voice thunders everyday in protests?
I am now waiting for the raging wind
or the earthquake to dismantle
all doubts.

Ananya S Guha
Shillong, INDIA.

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