Cordons of Heaven

by Ananya S. Guha / October 27th, 2019

I wish these roads
would vanish like
the crestfallen day
on haunches
and I wish the myopia
of living would turn into
roads that move on on
to some oblivion
some reclusive waste
a tepid warmth of the sun
a gentle whiff of a reminder
a latent movement of the heart
a warmth, winter.

Winters are never different
they come like sparrows
they bring the cold like musk melons
which appear suddenly, winters come
any time in this town and musk melons
go with summer

Sometimes I am stranded in thoughts
at crossroads of dreams
and the traffic brings them into a rude halt
so do sky chiaroscuros

In oblivion I wait for skies to erupt
guns to explode
blood to rush and smear streets
the news of blood is never far away
the news of death is history

I must break this fasting of silence
not with food or water
but with a burst of tears
tears that sprout into many mists
spitballing into cordons of heaven.

Ananya S Guha lives in Shillong in North East India, where he was born and brought up. He has been writing and publishing his poetry for the last forty years. His poetry has been published in both electronic and print formats such as: Indian Literature, Other Voices, Osprey Journal, Glasgow Review, The Literary Nest, Up The Staircase, Asia Writes, Art Arena, Praxis Online, Muse India, Your One Phone Call, In Between Hangovers, The Peeking Cat Magazine, Post Colonial Text among others. He has also written widely on educational and social matters. He has ten collections of poetry and his poetry has been anthologized in various collections of Indian poetry in English. He holds a doctoral on the novels of William Golding. Read other articles by Ananya S..

This article was posted on Sunday, October 27th, 2019 at 8:02am and is filed under Poetry.