Sylva Path. By Ray Subrata Poem by Subrata Ray

Colossal life force initiates conflict with psychic ocean,
Father’s cancerous death at eight proves her a waif,
Iron will from within, and struggle undaunted,
Seeks the passages of a genius’s pains, trampling chains.

Hers is a study of psycho-elastic limit, that struggle colloids,
Verdurous- crimson –tide, with feelings of unequal that she hides,
Run rum pant from passage to passage, with pangs of isolation.

As editor, lecturer, poet, story writer, and novelist, she excels,
And as wife to Ted, and mother to son, Nicholas Farrar, well she deals,
But within there was always perils, and ‘lest should’ pricks hemmer age,
As her will decays from the event of her unborn daughter’s miscarriage.

Faith, the only stay, she fostered on her, and linked it to her man Ted,
Collapses like a quake, with Ted’s affair with Assia Wevill, and fades.
As a poetess of profound subconscious measure,
Sylva would be next to Shakespeare to her readers,
Awards, and Pulitzer Prize on her Collected Poems.
Install her on passage of times with immortal name.

Like Keats and Shelly, she had troublesome lease of 32 years to meet,
Had she lived an advanced life, monumental work she could create,