Podi Haamuduruwo

Child, yes
and child enough
for boyishness
with spring and chuckle
but coyness too
in the framing of robe
the vinaya rules
and the larger dictates:
the paramitas
the karmic power
the choice and choice-lack
the producers perhaps
of this here and this now
of this childhood’s ordained colours
of reflection and reflexivity.

[inspired by the photography of Rukshan Abeywansa]

LEAVE A COMMENT

Mirroring

Water wave and sand wave
ripple and ripple
the endless crafting
endless eraser of draft
endless re-crafting
as though by a creator
annoyed by his imperfections
for sand wave is water-made
and so this ebb and flow
is constant reminder
of divine embarrassment.

[inspired by the photography of Hiranya Malwatta] 

LEAVE A COMMENT

To a little boy

Flag is banner
is faith
and inculcation
son.

Flag is for waving

colour for delight
hand for holding
eyes for seeing
and seeing through,
son.

Flag is a heart

it is mind
distinguishing the indistinct
teasing apart the vague
holding composite
and disintegrating it all
son.

Flag is a cloth

made of thread
a long line
from that life to this and the next,
it is for holding
and breaking,
son.

[Inspired by the photography of Hiranya Malwatta]

LEAVE A COMMENT

Meditation on clay lamps

Receptacle of symbol,

symbolic of salience
the doctrinal soft logic of being
tell me:

where lies the truth
where the going and the gone.
In the residue of yesterday’s devotion
the waiting earth for tomorrow’s oil
the lubricant and fuel of veneration
the wick of human sorrow
the flame that illuminates
dies
and illuminates once more
in death,
or the iron grid that holds
and frames and frames
and fuels ignorance?

[Inspired by the photography of Hiranya Malwatta]

LEAVE A COMMENT

Merged morning musings

Mornings are mergings

where the namer is lost

among greens

blushed with dew and mist

and trees evade definitive line

leaf hugs leaf

in an immemorial yearning –

the strength of collective backgrounding.

Sun unmasks all

by and by

until night yields

once again

the comforts of undefinability,

but these seamless greens

lift me

above tree line

and  sorrow

carry me like pirith

heard from a distance

the memory of fresh-cut grass

from a different century

shared by strangers

never meant to meet.

LEAVE A COMMENT

Kajuwatta Praathamika Vidyalaya

(Aralaganwila, Januay 2009)

Back then

barefooted innocence
was target legit,
childhood then was not cloaked
in mother's milk fragrance
but 'covered' by soldiering routine
back then a single exercise book
for history and geography.
numbers and words
vulnerability and despair
the consolation tidbits of diurnal routine
where the school concert was
the act of being (as of now and no more)
under shadow of a twenty-one gun death-salute
except for random days like this
when life poured into village and school
with books, bags, umbrellas and shoes
and a concert-day
collaged by a resilient teacher
who stayed and stayed for 21 years;
today is another not-enough day
but back then,
something was everything
naturally. 

[Inspired by the photography of Hiranya Malwatta]

Published in 'The Nation' of February 12, 2012

LEAVE A COMMENT

Percussion

There's a ripple
and a shout,
an avalanche and earthslip
movement of a single stone
winged concert at dusk
agitated strum
impatient foot-tap
the lives of our days
in their irregular heartbeats
come together
and somewhere in the night-light
the elements conspire,
I am told
to turn it all into an oceanic drum-roll
and an echo that erases country-line
wraps world
in clasped hand veneration
called 'heartbeat'. 

[Inspired by the percussion group 'Naadro']

LEAVE A COMMENT