Thursday, April 7, 2016

What arrived

What arrived at the beginning
was a ship carrying young blades 
crowing about their amorous adventures –

snaps of the stunners in their pouches
corroding like the ethereal yesterdays.

The beach hooted along with the seagulls,
perplexed and stammering
in the company of strangers.

The forests answered,
but not what they were asked.

The young in the bunker who danced,
banged drums and had fun-fights, were
stunned to see an enemy.

The son asked the father: Who
The father asked the grand-father: Why

Using sorcery, the dead great-grandfather
who was desperate to know,
summoned his forefathers to the family grave.

After sipping toddy and folklore
on a moonlit night, they left smiling:

After all, a question is as good as a prayer
that follows the rain only until it seeps—

and we kissed the soil until
it dissolved in the earth’s cheeks,

meditating death
in the deepest of our prayers.

Aditya Shankar,

Helpless I do not know if good intentions prevail among the elected, among the appointed, leaving me apprehensive that the fate ...