Tuesday, April 29, 2008

the last she

Get up and rise
For the storm is over.
Hidden under the rock she stares,
Into the world. No ray has seen her body,
Kept deep within the earth. But now;
Her body eases and squirms out of the ground.
A newborn nakedness clothe her.
The muddy earth stick to her like fear did
All her life; and now the storm is over.
Her eyes drink the peace of the moment.
The earth is soaked old with sons
Young and old stuffed within.
She sits cross-legged and
Counts the sand; there is none.
She walks through fields and tells
Their name; they are none.
The wind blows but cannot be felt;
The dead lay bare and weep her name;
Cursed is she caged within life.

She stands there to know
She is all as living can be called.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

good one, somewhere there is a mystical tuch.. 'new born nakedness'is alliteration and personification together!!!

Marcus said...

Really Nice Anu...Thanks

cerebrand said...

i love yoir writting and more interested in your graphic works and drawings. please do post some. or you can write and mail to me at
arindam.1974@rediffmail.com. we can do portrait exchanges too.
be a friend. waiting to see your works and exchange ideas.

cerebrand said...

as the night comes on me, i open my eyes, raise my head over the clouds. both of us roll over the dark blue ground of sky. sweat comes out like rain, a storm like her fast breathing. a mild moaning is heard from the distance of light years. and slowly comes out the melted moonlight. an exhausted dark of the night sleeps right beside me. i see at her in love.

Jerusha said...

This is beautiful - I always wish I can write poetry like this but *sigh* I've stopped trying..