This morning, before dawn, the sky over Chamundi hill
Was not yet streaked in chromatic strata, the first flush,
Pinkening to orange, reddening to carmine layers. Nobody
Moves along our street five floors below, no car nor motor-bike,
No early strollers to the park. All was imminent behind
The bluster and the din of decibels to come.
I tilted back my head and gazed up in wonder
At a phenomenal crescent moon, like a sliver of white
On the top of a finger nail, a bark afloat on pallid mist.
Why was the moon delayed in its westward arc? Was the sun
Holding up the routine rotation of our globe to stun?
Was it an aberration or an augury of future history?
- - - - -
On 14 November,2016, only ten nights earlier, we
had witnessed the rare event of the moon coming
closest to the earth, when the moon seems more effulgent
‘vis-à-vis'. PH had also posted my verses, ‘The Sky is Vast
Enough' and ‘Lunar Looks' in 2016.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Routine rotation! With the muse of nature. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Dear Colleague, respected critic and poet, I feel enormously encouraged by your appreciation, so soon after I sent the verse on the Crescent Moon to PH. Such a reader is a boon to a scribe who has scribbled on for decades without many readers, critics and netizens of the world. Wishing you great success and wellness. AM