unwet and wet
read with care by those conversant
with the language
of colour, texture and passing
and passed over too
for there are preferred texts
and ones tossed aside
for later and never;
but leaves
come from dust and to dust they go
without complaint
through gaze and ignoring;
they conspire with sun, shade and wind
wear the garments of the day’s seasonality
without shout, let us repeat
but whisper
the eternal verities: ‘birth, decay, death’
all laid out in leaf-texts
that need no words,
not even these.
[*This is the title poem of the collection that was shortlisted for the Gratiaen Award 2011. I have posted this earlier, but starting today I will post the entire collection of 56 poems, one per day]
LEAVE A COMMENT
LEAVE A COMMENT
but leaves
ReplyDeletecome from dust and to dust they go
without complaint
through gaze and ignoring;
they conspire with sun, shade and wind
wear the garments of the day’s seasonality
without shout, let us repeat
WHY CAN'T I SAY IT LIKE THIS?
you probably say it in a different language...
Deleteonce i thought 'words' are the master of this universe. i am wrong i actually realized it later .....' the silence', the sounds of the wind', the colours of the rainbow, different shapes and sizes of leaf/leaves, the waves of the ocean, the richness and the freshness of the morning sun, never forgettable art and patterns of the rain, the beauty of the moon and the stars of the mid night sky, a million worth paintings that reflects the heart of an artist, eyes of an innocent child ...... people become speechless, wordless ..... therefore here i like to say and i like to accept that 'some texts are made of leaves'......
ReplyDeleteand also .... your words in this poem you have crafted and painted them so beautifully and wonderfully.
Beauty. Give us only your poems and the poetic prose and we shall be thankful.
ReplyDeletelovely
ReplyDelete