Ananta Madhavan Poems
Order Out Of Chaos
Panting up the slopes
With the wind brewing in the trees,
And the mountain line like a row
Of aged teeth decaying,
And the cold air in hunger
Nibbling at my warmth,
I think of the jagged beauty that disturbs
The neatly ordered boxes of my mind;
And I think of the rich irrelevance around me,
And I know that I will never smooth
The scarred and pimpled visage of the earth,
Nor rearrange the scattered stars
In jewelled patterns.
I have no secrets from the mocking peak.
Points Of View
The worm's- eye view
Is fine for you,
Until you see
The bird's-eye view
Can seldom do.