Waiting For The Shoots From The Shroud Poem by FABIYAS M V

She also dies
to be reborn in hallucination.

Her spouse's corpse
is wrapped in a white dhoti.

She makes everything
safe within the walls, slamming

the windows and doors.
Bacteria perform the post-funeral rites

before the burial.
A smoldering Frankincense gulps down

the fetid smell.
She's one among the multitude who

can't see *Mangalyaan
landing on the lapof Mars.

No one can alter
the earth's flat shape in her mind.

Her peace feeds on the
scraps that a pretentious priest drops.

Her lips rain mantras,
yet shoots of life don't sprout from the shroud.

She waits
within a circle of illusion.

There's a meaning
in meaningless waiting.





*Mangalyaan - India's first Mars mission


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