Hill View Poem by Ananta Madhavan

Awake at six, I strolled across the rooms
To see how dawn would daub the canvas of the sky
With brush-strokes broad or fine
In dilute tones of red and orange.

I strode on to my window-view,
Level with the tallest coconut fronds,
To feast my eyes on the Hill of Devi,
The goddess who slew the all-destroying Demon
In mythic metaphor, a dormant giant prone,
But hewn with steps of rock and stone
For those who can ascend to pray or muse
Or exercise their muscles and their will.

That morn the hill had vanished in a mist.
But as I switched on my electric work-day,
Awaiting Inbox, shaming news and memos to myself,
Translucent sunlight tossed away the clouds.
The hill-crest slowly unveiled its undulating line,
Afloat upon an unplumbed sea of mist.