Science becomes a poem
lost and found in the letters
of the earth’s lyrical voices.
A silence in a heart broken
by two faiths louder in its
humble dignity.
A gray absence brighter than
a vast presence in the light of
the luminescent black pagoda.
A petrichor of rain on the
earth of a muted identity,
spreading its fragrance into
the golden leaves of the
nation’s pride. A redeeming
war of peace against the
Ashokan edicts with a handful
of “artless brown flowers”
offered at the ruined altar
of the glorious Kalinga. A
“Hunger” with the envious
tongues of flame burning inside
the belly of an earth that will
stretch its fragrant sands of love
as a feather-bedded tomb where
he dreams to sign off, leaving
behind a vast foliage of untold
saga. The smile and the grief
too, on the parched lips of the
Chandrabhaga where the ripples
of it’s music, leave behind
a trajectory of his signatures
stretching beyond the periphery.
A human wheel of the lord
Jagannatha’s chariot, shouldering
the burden of a ravaged history,
breaking down to the earth in the
odyssey of a Relationship drenched
in a perpetual stream of blood in the
heart of a nation proclaiming its identity,
in the elevated glory of Konarka. A
turbulence from the “hidden springs
of Mahanadi”, meandering into the
timeless waters of elemental eternity
becoming a sublime prayer from the
slit throats of the Sun god’s children
Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you have a poem you’d like to submit, do email us at [email protected].
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