the Big Island
It is a big island about the size of France, for a long time this island has been asleep so peaceful lemurs jumped along the jungle floor to reach the next tree, before
trophy hunters came together with missionaries and the people looking for gold.
Madagascar was once part of a supercontinent bigger
than Russia, called Gondwana where the inhabitants spoke 4 languages which was needed when traveling
through a landmass that had lakes the size of the Mediterranean Sea.
For a long time, South Gondwana was like Florida a place for the rich and elderly to retire and served by the local population who lived in small huts to not block the sea view of the rich, and the wealthy as usual could not understand why they were hated.
Revolution came, the army had for too long lived on bacon skin and gone obese, spears and swords too heavy
The vast country broke up into many parts that drifted about and settled like we see on the map today
But the dream remains, the dream you can walk naked
among palm trees and not get bitten by snakes
orange sun rising to the east
as i sit aloft a mountain top
time stands still in this ancient land
has it been one minute or one day
is it the future or is it the past
Gondwanaland is sharing her stories
sharing her dreaming of ancient times
as i look to the west
orange sun sets
Gondwana
I woke up it was morning and a year had gone
My future was behind me I only had to live for the day
And not bother with philosophical questions but
Set the day free to wander, see where it will take me.
I hope it is not Madagascar this island of muddy shores
Steamy heat, odd animals with big empty eyes
A variety of snakes and dusty roads leading nowhere
This Island was once a part of a supercontinent but it
Moved out of time Madagascar is a reminder of not to
Worry about now whatever happens it will move out
The world is a stage where most of us a statists but has
No say about the script; time takes care of that.
Limerick: Once the Yogi of Himalaya
or the laughing gas Yogi
I
Once the Yogi of Himalaya
Preached laughing loud with Prânâyâma*
They thought him immortal
Put him on pedestal
Now he’s the toast of lost Gondwana.
II
Once the same Yogi Himalaya
Taught laughing during Prânâyâma*
Lungs stuck to diaphragm
Voice: phonocardiogram
Now he’s part of iced Fujiyama.
• Sanskrit for the art of breathing in yogic practices:
• prânâ = (cosmic) energy; âyâma = vitality.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
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