Monday, March 12, 2018

"Perhaps" by Aparna Sanyal

Aparna Sanyal 

"Peace" Ink on Paper
J. Artemus Gordon
there is a book
by a fireside 
on a rug of tufted joy,
at the end of a long day. 
Shall we make our way there?  
Through a spiraling
once our lives have unspooled,
and insect-like, we have
scrabbled through the rims of
endless pine cones,
dreamt arachnid dreams
of flies, spit-cocoons and
Once we've opened too many holy 
books with gun shapes 
cut inside,
drunk too much merry wine,
foul scotch and swilled 
bitter pills,
will you join me at 
this fireside? 
We can open the first page together. 
something that isn't 
jaded, cloyed, tainted
will draw us to its core.
And with your hand in mine,
leaning back against 
your absorbing shoulder, 
we can read again? 

Poet’s Notes:  This poem came to me at the end of a particularly stark day. Watching radical religious fundamentalists create yet another fight, seeing the downward spiral of economic and social conditions in my beloved country, and then seeing tear-drenched, hopeful faces at another candle-lit vigil, I was struck by how varied a country we are, and how we’ve existed for eons seemingly teetering at the edge of devastation, but somehow redeeming ourselves. Perhaps, all we want, all we dream of, beyond the divisions, beyond the hate, is a simple, sweet, honest ending to our mortal tales? 

Editor’s Note:  What a lovely overriding metaphor and hopeful sentiment so beautifully expressed!  The world is so divided.  That would be fine, perhaps even beneficial, if all sides respected each other, but sadly they do not.  Perhaps this poem will at least change a few hearts and minds.  In any case, it is my honor to publish it. 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.