Seasonal Priorities

by Satish Verma

Effortlessly a desire erects a monument.
One flaw demolishes the image.
Stones, ugly grass and a solitary tree make the landscape.

Hundreds of seeds go back to the earth’s womb,
never to sprout.
Heartbroken I stand in the middle of life, crumbling alone.

How can we change?

A splash of green ingests a scissor, that is not enough.
A parallel tragedy strikes.
Sun and flowers are gone,
seeking a truth, not yet conceived.

A timeless fire burns in the temple,
uncovering the heat, edging towards us.

Freedom from long falls comes, bit by bit in degrees.
Suffering remains the same.
We immortalize our smears.

The absolute truth suddenly becomes a lie.
A myth which ballooned our minds.
But brutal sunlight has seasonal priorities.

10-Apr-2012

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