three bright blue anemones
and the grey womb of sea,
tweaked
in stringent endeavour,
and synergised to frame
bright blue dreams in the grey womb of reality.
suddenly a posthumous world mocked.
Severely.
There's no external fracas in the world of water
To hush my inner scream
Whopping incessantly at the roots of conscience.
Only the flay of anemone-like desires
Striking against the grey wall of 'impossible'.
I had been there again and again
askance
fearful
weak
HUMAN.
And I wondered 'Where is God now? '
Someone smiled.
Astonished, I turned back.
A fourth anemone.
A little one.
Just born.
The wonder instilled by creation,
Replaced the monotony instilled by mere bequest.
**Probably the most odd poem I have ever written. Somehow I couldn't simplify it to the level I wanted. You have your poetic licence to interpret it as you want, but here's a word on what it stands for me:
Sometimes unexpected 'losses' invade us. They overstep our emotional boundary. They scream within us, while we stay silent, depressed, resigned, extinguished, and suffer the excruciation.
I discovered an odd healing balm - the joy of creation.
Unfurling touch-me-nots, snake-eggs hatching to snakelings, bacteria breeding, bees assisting in pollination, and wow! A surprise! I came to know that there are bamboos that reproduce through seeds, as opposed to the common ones that multiply by shoot-systems! ! ... the list is unnumbered.
I watched this in tv, tirelessly, incessantly, until the music of creation silenced my inner screams.
God reveals himself in His creations. I had ignored this wonder for so long.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poetic imagination, Nibedita. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks