Sri Lal Poet Free verse

A Fire Rises

Sri Lal
A Fire Rises

A fire rises in the pit of the gut—
and I forget myself.

At the grey langur’s door,
I give up. I cut my hair,
dance bare in the Bhadra rain.

Who am I? 
I ask myself, again and again.

From the shadows of a mango grove, 
two birds sing of sweet 
and bitter fruit. Two fires rise—

Between lust and rage
there is no difference. 

In the cowshed shrine burns
a fire of loss,
a fire of vow and surrender.

Fire is fire
to she who holds
no thought in mind but one

who rises from ash,
who sends forth 
a holy river from his hair—

one I have known since before 
I was a whisper on dark water.

Published in Doubly Mad

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