River Noise Poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri

river noise and river silence
swept by leaning trees and rocks
carry ashes of our living since dead
Our rice balls are carried in rapid waters
reaching distant rivers in hills
our fire is lighted, our rice cooked
for our no longer kin but airy spirits.
we chant strange words, sonorous
words that release airy nothings
from real bondages, strange.
words are airy nothings too
and the body is nothing, just sleeps
and it turns into ice and ashes,
swathed in ice that holds body
while it does not smell, quietly.
bodies that look at the sky
disappear the next morning
in ashes of flowing water.
we have tried to collect two urea bags
full of she who bore us into the world
the boat enters midstream
without looking back we hurl her.
her ribs were trying to hold
after the fire they are cinders.
we scoop her in our bags;
all the while we chant strange words
that mean nothing to us or to her.
our words are ashes, our love ashes
a bag of of yellowed bones.