Jouney 1 Poem by ARUP RATAN HALDAR

I, the transfiguration of the hallowed evening
smell the randomness of a bellowing fire
and my tongue twisted in the plateau
I mourn you, you the warmer wind
as I pass through the cemetery
and a perrenial rush entangles me
We rise like juice in the saplings
and the womb cries out
in the stillness of eternity
I fall through the tempest of salt
I endure the light carving a holloway
Uncured in the darkness of your wings
I hear the grasses smoldering
beneath my dusky eyelids

20/09/20