O Moon, My Love Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

I know a lovely moon, sparkles as the eyes,
When I looked at her first, the sky was clearly blue,
It was the day after our rivers were filled with muddy water,
The termites had grown the wings to look for the dead hearts,
The witch doctor in my village, started to have the visions to ponder,
The smell from him made me to dream and it did not belong to a child,
The leaves and flowers were dried at the backyard,
To play with the genes of the weak hearted chimneys,
The moon I know was met by me after a few years,
The clouds made the moon to gasp for air,
I held that moon tight closer to my heart, fed the Horlicks,
The beautiful round shaped face surrounded by the visitors,
They were at the shores of the oceans and the banks of rivers,
Millions of them look at her with drowsy eyes, offering her flowers,
Incense sticks, banana on the betel net leaves,
The soaked rice was mixed with jaggery and cardamom,
The flavor of Indian kitchen and the spirits,
The moon I have known slowly step down to me,
To be embraced and get tattoed as the autograph,
Now differently attired, freshly baked through experience,
Having the puffy face and the swollen legs,
The hands have the needle marks,
The blackened face for the new moon,
The hoots of the owls louder than the songs of the myna,
Too late, as the chimney cleaners are exhausted,
The ‘anti’ medicines start to boycott and resort,
To non cooperative movement in the courtyard,
the juggling of the souls from the living to the eternals,
the cries of the women are heard from thousands of miles,
when the moon I know, gone forever, take away our smile only for a while.