Undone Poem by Subhasish Barua

Afternoon mist speaks thorough the woods
With perpetual tranquillity;
Trodden but remaining footfalls echo
Through eternity.
The pillars of incense make a blank space
In the garden
I jump through it -
The fog inevitably answers to me sadly with printed calender in her mind.


Inherent but not internally present
The still point speaks amidst the crowd.

With Galileo above I spoke forth
Pain perhaps to him done
Equal to that of Lear
Justice remained undone.

Last Negro smiles with confidence; I, no more
You took the smile from me when evening comes
Leaves grow unusually with dexterous audacity
You lookedaaskance at me; I, alone on the shore