Enacting Transience On A Pleasure Boat Poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri

Transience echoes branch upon branch,
In the peepal tree when you look up in its spaces
The tree had been there before you started existing:
Only the squirrel knows when and how it began
After several secrets it shares with the wind.
Actually there are no secrets, only knowing light
In its deep-set eyes which stare at the hills
There is no hint of dissolution in its fixed stare
Nor a logical incoherence in its ponderous shadow.
As it stands the earth knows it and understands.
It is you who think of dissolution, its earth-to felling
The dry leaves on the ground, rotting twigs
Animals leaving traces of their decaying smells
That is what you think and become, all the while
Carrying the cloud-shred of transience above you.
This spiritual stuff is warm, boosting selfness
The arrogance of understanding, purported eminence
You then pan your self-deluding energy, by the hand
Suffer death and birth pangs, cells overgrowing.
Here, on the boat music flows in drum-beats
The lake is resonant with the city’s vulgarity
And shadowy figures enact transience in its night
Their beauty-dance flows in absurd movements
Their arms and feet are hurled in the air helplessly
Their shadows crouch in flesh and blood transience.