My Old Flute Poem by Jaydeep SARANGI

I'm sure, these days, the sal trees,
An important source of
Hardwood timber
Look back in its slow silent flowering wait for
The season's timely return.
The full prayer for peace
Shall revive its colour from its sleep.
The wind of cold absence passes by gently.
The field lies quiet waiting for my
Marooned body, its warm smell of the years
Reaching me even here, this forest side village
Terracotta*
temples where my prayers
For a return must fall on the muddy roads
And in the tribal girl's vacant look.
The ghost of my previous birth
Makes me wild.
I nourish my thoughts to grow up as a ‘sal' full tree
Or like river Dulung†
Where you all shall be my pregnant foliage.
('From Dulung To Beas: Flow of the Soul',2012)
* Terracotta: a type of temple design.
† Dulong is a river of Western West Bengal, India.