By Gopal Lahiri
Dyad
In the wide-open field the stars rest on my shoulder, the immense vista of silence between the lines, waits at the edge of the sleep, each moment is a quiet recollection, the moonless night is so complete in itself. A crescent of rock-framed sands washed by arcs of blue water, I do not know how to speak before my own silhouettes, I only learn to sit and condense, clouds bow down to touch the earth.
Shadow Line
I often bend down to collect a few footprints, in the shapelessness of darkness, I see a shadow, I pluck one to meet myself in a new time, It is a process I do not want to forget anymore. At the end of my journey, I always search for wobbly hands. My mother. The fingers stand like soft white candles. Each togetherness calms heart and fills the smell of absence. She dips her nib in blue ink, catches my whispers, the glass, the unseen faces, the ancient night chisel the forgotten alphabets and syllables, the prayers unheard, gods never arrive at my doorstep.
Annihilation
The silver lily lifts its tired feet and floats, as if a prayer by water’s edge, then rustling in the yellow reeds join and turn back to the snakeskin bodies of slinking rivers. Bushes thriving under hot sun, will laugh with the wind of curse behind them, stones are now free from their places, eroded and deported far away. A jungle of concrete will slowly destroy the spreading roots, seeds, and earthlings, the animated hymn of birdsong, There will be no one to carry them back to their silent, natural way.
Change
The trees listen to the birds with quietness, and for a while the rain falls with ice around their wreath of darkness, the leaves unfurl and speaks in tongues through stony lips. Here the flowers live and die in silence, the richness of fire is touched by the transformation of rain, like an old love comes back again in a soft embrace. Now little seeds sprout, the rough edges of the world are toned down, the air is blowing with petrichor, barren land is awakened and dance to the tune of rain.
Gopal Lahiri is a bilingual poet, critic, editor, writer, and translator with 29 books published, (10 books in Bengali and 19 books in English) including six solo/jointly edited books and two joint books. His poetry and prose are published across more than 70 anthologies as well as in eminent journals of India and abroad. His poems are translated in 16 languages and published in 12 countries. He has been nominated for Pushcart Prize for poetry in 2021, He has received Setu Excellence award, Pittsburgh, US in poetry. His collection of poems ‘Alleys are Filled with Future Alphabets.’ has received Pan Asian Ukiyoto awards in 2022. ©gopallahiri
