Repristination
Digging into and detecting deep roots gives me a thrill.
Though raking up the foregone quarrels is a tiresome drill,
Values I have lost in the name of modernization,
Traditions that, like ancient hills, succumbed to damnation...
Should threads of exuberant cultures be quickly broken?
Isn't repristination an existential token?
These broken vessels of my ancestors... these torn garments,
Each has its fingerprints of involvements and debarments.
Would the spirit hovering around these yet be chased out?
Don't these cups that touched their lips have an endless silhouette?
Each rusted shoe of lost horses has tall tales to tell.
Of curses of petty kingdoms and kings, that, on them fell...
The processes and procedures of progress proceed fast.
Changes, as though perpetually changeless, seem to last.
Temples, mosques, churches, synagogues, Jinjas—what else is left?
Towers, bridges, forts, ramparts, glamorously cleaving clefts
Quality and quantity have, now, quickly shaken hands.
Don't, yet, covertly clouded hopes construct castles on sands...
Thick layers of dust and dirt constrict entire peripheries,
of principles of pristine prophetic epiphanies;
These should be removed! Truths, like the galaxies, should brightly shine.
May past foundations pave fraternal paths for a sacred shrine;
May virtues, values, and visions fill the veins of the past,
Flow flawlessly through blood vessels, cells, and the heart at last!
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