How Does He Write? Poem by SRIRANJI ARATISANKAR

How does he write?
He is unimaginative;
Imagination cooks his meal.

He is a summer-river;
Thought-wave and his wife
Serve as gardener in his garden
on the bank of his home-side lake
Everyday they string garlands of ‘Lodhra-kusuma.'

He is wanton.
Metrical irregularities made him crazy.
To the north of his home
In a deep-blue forest a playful stream
flowing from the west towards the south
Everyday the dancing current
presents him a blue hundred petalled lotus,
Some skies, fragrant of south-wind.

He does not feel day or night.
As they themselves become his residence.

He is illiterate.
The words are his attendant.
To please their master
they mutually arrange themselves
And just like good boys sit on the copy.