Flowers and Silences

The dim darkness-the diffused light-dimness of one merging into the other-imparting more length to the long trees that are standing like stretched out shadows wearing stars in their hair- silence is imparting more depth to the darkness in this advaita where darkness is merged into silence, my mind wakes up, now not only sound but even a ray of light is a violent disturbance to the profoundness of peace- in such moments deep truths unveil themselves-now I realize it is not sound but in silence melody lives- I am born out of flowers and silences- while passing my hand brushed against a flower, I asked 'are you bruised? ‘‘Me or you' smiling, the flower questioned back- the heart of my pen broke and split blood; - I do not know which paper can bear this pen- In the gigantic silences of forests, which touch the blue skies, the carpenter bird pecks at the trunks of great trees which echo, far reaching sounds-what can he do among the tiny crotons? I ate days like fruits-now I eat drops of tears like grapes- frightened by the sun took refuge under shades- sitting on the pavement eating dreams from eyes like ice cream with spoons- measuring my life with dark evenings- I distributed my wealth once with meters, now I scatter with handfuls my future letting it fly in all directions- I washed my heart in tears and dried it over poetry- walked past wearing people on my body like shawls- in the assemblies of flames; in countries abroad I raised my gypsy voice and sang mixing earth and sky- this country is the graveyard of my genius- however fast I walk the distance remains the same. This land is thirsty for my blood, it is snoring in the little shades of pigmy trees- I picked my pen and dipped it in the sun to write a summer song for my nation- - Seshendra Sharma