Smitha Sehgal
Yellow is the colour of Earth when Summer holds breath to paint Canvas of poet;
A ripe moon hangs on brow of night illuminating back waters with restless cries of curlews,
In the weary shadows of time, fish swim upstream, crossing over to deep lagoons, bowing in
reverence to Snake Goddess of Islands, seeking refuge from turbulent waters of ocean.
Here in the deepest ascend of meditation they brush verse encrusted lips on the roots of
mangrove forests,
They will stay long, drawing arcs of leaping seahorse on walls of their mud homes
When Monsoon arrives on eyelids of dark clouds, breath of rain pulsates on the surface of
Earth, Ocean inundated memories of Lagoon, crossing over barriers of languages
Houseboats gather damp wood fire, last flowers of Earth weave melodies of ancient tribes
of rivers and mountains, sky and love, interspersing jasmine buds blooming in courtyards of
red tiled homes
Everything we accumulate become bones of memory to be brought out when tide recedes in
the cloud of illusion.
As for the fish that came home in Summer, they spawn – spreading out to Oceans in glints of
jade poetry