lovita j r morang

Rookie - 25 Points (16th july 1976 / arunachal pradesh.assam, india)

Rivers - Poem by lovita j r morang

Rivers – [2006]
To where
All the golden fishes
Call from that the couch shell echoes through

To what emptiness
The ripples of your beingness touch

The golden stones are washed…
The gold -washer waiting
Banks of the rivers not yet sunk
Wait until Walk until
You see the Magical path to yourself

I shall make you
a Golden castle on the sand.
I shall die to reborn to be with you
by the riverside
I am waiting
unfurled the commandments of enchantments
flagged off the speeding wheel
of karmic and Parikarmic pain

I shall not dictate you to live…
you are dying…
My Weakening shoulders…
Where shall I carry you
Empty hands beg on the forbidden streets of humanity.

Hopes in these land
Shall be born again
Soils of my land still shining

Nothing shall die
Nothing can slaughter you
Brevity born
I shall cry out…Bravo!
You are my brave child…
I shall salute you…
Every lip shall smile now

You shall be the warrior,
The winner, Warring over what…
Marred! What we call sovereign
Sovereign soul of yours shall not die

Your name-Martyred on Milestones…
Shall sing…Shall sigh…
I shall talk to the fishes

Flying fishes, golden fishes
Silver fishes…of river siang
Gold fishes of river Dihing, river Dihang, river kopili

Like the Smiles of the ripples of the kopili river
You shall flow to farrer land and meet new friends

They shall teach you to smile

you shall smile
Then smile…and then smile…

Sings like the river, smile like the river
Thence I shall like the river
Sing and smile… sing and smile
That flows by the side of your haven

like the Siberian birds crossing over
germany, Russia Malaysia,
to our home in majuli
majuli island is sinking…

need souls to save it
we shall save it

Thence there write by sand grains
How to smile
Don’t you reddened the river with bloods now
brethren hold on
guns and granates I need too
a foe within us
we need to kill them first
Don’t ask me where
Now I want you to breath
See still beautiful is the river flowing
And still beautiful the birds flying

Kill the demon in you
We can walk together
By The golden gate made

Thence like those Gold- washer
The Mising people-the Gold washer in the pages 1826 of the river
On the golden sands by the river side

Thence and there you shall
Die not in pain...

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, July 14, 2009

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