Rain in December....
From my rainy gardens, from the promontory of Indian Ocean i set free my dreams to travel on poetic elements.. There on the eastern sky, rain cleared all cross cultural shadows..
I walked towards the world to touch fragments of Maya Civilization, Meso American Civilization and ended my search on Mayotte. From eras to the ancient unseen markers, on stones there i see many hidden unknown alphabets.. I have learned one important aspect of my life that i have grown from my childhood days to even understand the minute subscripts/superscripts of this world...
I tried to clean my library.. a lot of stress boosters, colours, ink dots, cover ups, symbols, synonyms..
Do i need all that...??
Gouri has sent me her poem which she scribbled from the southern sea shores..
This is the Ocean i was into..
with no fear i sailed
i watched rivers,
streams and horizons
from the sub continental
From the front yard
of my rain filled
dreams are stolen
in open day light leaving
me in a room of destiny
I wasn't terrified that i was
walking along the friendly Ocean..
It is raining..
From the death bed of seasons i know it is time for me walk forward. Words drape me in rain drops. In Temple of treasures, i searched not for gold coins to make my destiny but for a poetic word in the shape of a sea shell. I have not dethrone any temple pillars in search of wealth nor ran behind any treasure pots.. I struggled to carve a poem there on the on the musical pillars..
Music of the universe i found more pleasant than the loud voice of the revolutionaries i heard from the silent manifestos ..
Civilizations speak about ruins and from the ruins i walk along.. I can hear my poetic heartbeats...
From Eras, what should i collect.. sand dust or rain drops...
I think i need rain drops now...