Sun’s blaze broils
thick flesh of clouds
pinnacled low on mountain high.
Arista of measureless streams
born of thousand native names
like a damsel
of golden tresses
and bee hives in her lip curls,
wailing over her lost lover.
that tread the land of ceaseless volcanoes
on the earth,
breed naked apes in her womb.
The waning moon glows with
on your erratic ripples,
floats in gaily mingled ecstasy.
Million canola flowers on your lagoon
sprawl golden pulses in heaps, while birds
tweet their obeisance
to your inumbrate shallows.
History spews anthologies, indigenous
on your youthful bank,
seasoned to handicraft
resurrected and hallowed.
Thousand secrets of buried treasures
clamoured on your pebbles
hums to your fables of love and loss.
wade in your fortuity of birth and death,
cry your duress saline floods
into the saltless ocean of prophecy
unfolding its untrammelled tales
as you survive the ravages of space and time
never to be born again.
© Deepa Chandran Ram
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