Basudhara Roy
Once sleep has claimed in you
what you have lately become,
my amorphous journey begins
to arrive through tattered maps
and half-told tales to a place
where you and I have never met
though I have sometimes caught
its glimpses in you when the sun set
and the birds flew home to gather
in their feathers the fluttering fears
of the dark as they waited for the east
to part its curtains and beckon them
to the dawn of promise before your wars,
your peace a sapling in suffering’s yard
you gave in alms fifteen summers ago
when your world was young, virgin
and unpenetrated by questions that now
sit under your skin like watchful owls
contemplating the night away while
I silently row across time to find you the way
your last beloved must have known you
when she drew burnished henna patterns
of clustering vines around your heart
to hold you tight,your kiss of faith
on her finger a ring I found
on our wedding night in the belly
of a fish brought to feed our joy
in making each other our own
though our pages have long bleached
away the poems our hearts beat for
and I am left this quiet night to seek
what has been lost so I can say
for once that I knew you the way
you were before life brought you
to this unwarranted death in me.