Letter From Bhanjavihar Poem by Saroj Padhi

Tell me dear who here
Is so complete, so full?
Why are we so bound together
in words as well as in empty spaces
even in the absence of a fixed rule?
When each one seems lost in a quest —
Like, like...
the wounds of the Earth in search
of a balm from rain;
hurtled winds in search of an intimate sojourn
between the scented breasts of a sky;
the mad moon in search of the lover Sun
who promised to fulfill dreams with lots of fun;
the river in quest of a warm embrace
at the mouth
from the recently-grown-inattentive sea;
in the womb of the flower, the blinded bee;
and the day light, beneath the dark fragrant
locks of the night
in search of rainbow and long lost heat;
flow of blood and tears
in search of the touch
of the saree soaked in longings;

half-burnt mind in search of the palm
of green leaves where pores
write long histories of lost love;
and storms of the day bury heads
in the lap of jasmines of dewy night
like simple, harmless doves
shrinking deeper into holes of big fright.
You appear tonight in moon beams rushing
thro' hyphens and dashes between leaves
who are busy knotting the locks of the sweet night
with aeriel roots from excited boughs
flung to both sides to sway before to a sleep very deep
softly the limbs of this body they fully douse.
Words crack and crumble
as waves of agony rise to merge miles
of poor population camping outside,
caught in the fury of ceaseless rain
and hunger's merciless pain.
Silence these impatient cries dear
with a simple, soft look from the corner of your eyes,
with a small curve at the edge of your lips
as the moon into a yawning, blue abyss slowly dies.