Tuesday, November 17, 2009

The Red Deeps

(A grove where Philips and Maggie used to meet)
Mill on the Floss

Why men mummify their past ?
Build mausoleums in their minds and heart ?
Why they nurture the ashes of time?
And always breathe hard and fast ??
... I was yet to learn.

Your presence, always alone
Longing for Maggie's side
In Red Deeps,where limps
Had made a bed for autumn
Embarks a journey for tears ...

Your pure eyes, frustrated
By the loss of "single chance of happiness"
when rise to watch two birds singing
Just above the head-branch
I learnt -
the Power of the Moments
Their Might and before them
A meek, timid , and prone I.

Yeah philips! I can't see any deformity
In your poetic look
- In your unsaid words
Which always struggled,with palpitations
Victoriously asserted themselves
In the rudeness of Time.

I'm not shocked at all
To see myself in Red Deeps
Following an old philosophy -

Longings can never be brushed aside -
Which was some day, strangled, I found, Could never die
But became an Oasis of Life.