once i
took to my roots
they claimed parsimony
a misspelt patrimony
a submission to the ordering of the other –
“An abhorrent sentimentality is
to ardor as angst is to the coffin’s
thievery” – attributed to the late
(ir)reverend bhakti seth
mir fakhr-e-doodhsiyahi, the
last soothnaysayer of Gujrat.
i-
to eke harmony
order has to be hacked off
to sing
the ode must die
to speak tree
growthspurt will give way
to song
the words of thisdom
ii-
the wound communes begins
to knead the agreements of
heal
i. take three handfuls of love & make it grass – i
flung the grass and love of grass made it whole –
which sun
was born? ii. lift wind lift chasm of fire lift
hammer – three voices to know your master, one
anvil to
forge the nail iii. many warrior faces mark this red
the ax knows the south as the blood
of leaves
know all of west – east turns clockwise thrice
With the largeness of waking
ash settles with the wood
of my wisdom, I banish
The remnants of forgetting &
leech morning sap as blue
rain whistles care, I devour
Wonder –
