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The White Jasmine Lord
I
first flowers open, seasons begin ! :
bloom before doom
as always
Rajasthani breeze sweet and scentful
fanning out to the sunset :
a caress ! across the ripeness of apricots
curling trees
winding downward foothills
plunging downward slopes
among the flowering marigold
and hibiscus lushing aplenty
vine has budded
and the pomegranate is in flower
finally : now, rejoice !
the scent of mandrakes and brambles –
sprout after sprout the lotus shall bloom !
forests drown in seasonal swamping
below the thunderous cloudbursts :
beneath the leaden sky smiles proud
the parent of this great outpouring :
O white Jasmine Lord !
II
all the while, i pray : let me go !
let me escape through the burning funnels :
i am the exhaust of God !
i, whose rotting body is sodden with salt-water
and set upon by crabs and electric eels,
my blood is the saccharin which delights
the truest of our beloved poets :
and when i am lonely,
o white Jasmine Lord,
my soul deepens with you !
allow me loneliness from my demons,
for i can not rid them :
this is a challenge of a life-time,
and a marvel beyond my understanding
O white Jasmine Lord : fill my whole heart
and make me plunge these deeper waters !
make me panic
in the calm weathers
make me flee
the warmest embrace
make me strip
every last sackcloth
make me stray
in the wild desert
let me do with life
what the dog does to the other,
when it sniffs the others' ass
Copyright ©
E. R. Ryttersson
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