Poems - Lakshmisree Banerjee
Time
Is it a cradle
swinging in the void
humming a
lull-a-by to
the ever joyful
the ever crying
baby of life
now awake
now asleep?
Is it a pendulum
between two eternities
ceaselessly ticking
on the listless
glassy face of
old grandfather
on the wall
moving yet
motionless
for centuries?
Or is it a chugging
train
sometimes whistling
sometimes speedily
quiet
but always
beating the
perennial rhythm
of a journey?
Or is it perhaps
the hollow
ghostly skull of
a ravaged home
burnt down
with riotous hate
yet static like
an open mouth
after being throttled
to death on
a blood-stained
page of history?
- 2 –
Or is it the chiming
footsteps
of wavering in
distressed separation
searching for
the lost lover
in a deep dark forest
across the
never ending
prickly path of
seething scents in
simmering flames
hoping to be
quenched with love?
Or is it a green
olive tree
or perhaps a saal
peepul, banyan
or mahua