The Gristmill
Whether the shadow of your face
Or the stripes of grace on the leaves
Whether the water and soil
In turmoil to sprout and bloom out
Releasing the stress of the bones
Into the cones of the buds
All I collect
In the micro baskets
The moment I get a racket
And you gladly connect with me
The game starts with thrill
Smilingly cooperates the grist mill
Churning the colours
Burning the impurities
Unlocking the keys
Bending the journeys
Grinding the thesis
Breaking the antithesis
And look
Beautifully emerging
The subtle synthesis
From nowhere they appear
The humming bees
For the poetry
For example
Beneath my skull
Just the other day
The sun of Shillong
Its kisses on the hill slopes
Your mouth washing soap on the wash basin
The children
They run in the school playground
The astounding hill peaks
Seeking to pierce the swollen pink clouds
The tall trees like taller women
Shedding shadows on the tea garden
The day labourer clearing the tea roots
The plastics strewn thanks to the brutes
The grist mill felt aroused
Everything it espoused
And the processing started
The flour?
From the cuddling hills
Down to the green oak shadow
Life with peace and strife
______________________________________
June 5, 2018 For The Gristmill Poetry Contest sponsored by Craig Cornish
Note: Considering the short and shorter lines, the violation of 20 line limit
might be condoned. Submitted with this expectation.
Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2018
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