The Journey Poem by Jyotishman Debnath

the sheded leaves scream in a nameless joy
when the vagabond words roll down
the vagabond words
coming down through the narrows
of a hilly stream

the sky sways forward
and the cloud hums
I dip my finger into moonlight
after hearing the sound
of wind knocking at
the doorstep

the moon in my pocket
rebels suddenly sometime
I touch the face of a statue
curved out from the dust
and I paint my desire
on a canvass of all yellow and green

the red sun caught on
the fisherman's net
the way I used to see
the sun kissing the tides
near the bank of that
eternal river
and I find
I'm trembling again

the dew sipping words
engraving the shadows of past
in the tomb of my memory
touching the salt with the edge of my toungue
and I realize
this winter is too long!

all the walk in the moonlight
dead alive wishes
swallowing the ache of heartbeats
eating fire and ice together
and just then
walking near
the escape route
I scream in a nameless pain
'it isn't that bad to be alive'
but!
shall 'we' walk on?