Comments about R.K Das
Island Of Isolation
Most cherished dreams
Burn into floating ashes
In the self-ignited fire
Of a shooting star
Falling from the nocturnal firmament.
But strangely enough,
Am intermittently overwhelmed
By the moist breath of fresh romance
And fragrance of a great hope
In an island of isolation.
As I toss
On the tattered mat
Spread on the bare earthen floor
Under the watchful eyes of a Savage Time,
I wait for the much-awaited liberation of the soul
From the divine nativity.
As I stood denuded
At the crossroads
With hands raised upward,
Eternity descended unto my open palms
With the silence of a benediction
Of my life's last Autumn.
In the mellowed stillness of the wilderness
The last skinny leaf of an ancient oak