Poem : Echoes from Sands’ valley

~Ram Prasad Prasain~Ram Prasad Prasain

Thousands and thousands
Unwrought souls under the brim of sands, dales and vales
Where desert snakes are fulfilling
Their solely and wholly vested interests
Displaying tilting dances of theatrical Shiva

Of charismatic
Turning and twisting tantrums
To deepen in self, soul and immortality
In the heart of Sahara and Savanna
Where everything
Within trajectory of countless eternal continuum
Of eternal recurrence and continuous conflicts
And dangling reconciliation
From womb to home
Home to tomb
Again, tomb to greater HOME
Every game’s over
Another is beginning
As every parting another meeting
All lines are points, dots and atomic echolalia

Essence of thousand senses
Self-evidence of witnesses
Sky is limited
Body is fortified
Where soul is citadel of cradling civilizations
Where untold alchemy of miseries, lives, deaths, hatreds and affections
Under the balanced scores of affliction and HOPE

Sandy is the Sand
Hot is Sally and sales
Both are beguiling
Beguile is thrown into air
“Listen to the sound of silence,
Listen to the voice of de-voiced;
And listen to the backward portion of margins”

Being an artless voyeur
I’m lost in my wonderlands
Nostalgic dispersion
Of remote distance of pulsated buds
Having derailed imagination
Evergreen soul resides
Under the platonic cork of sandy winds
Revitalized unending droplets of elixir vitae
Of enlightened epiphany !
Steadily but surely
Dust’s dustier
Life has to play attired harmony of cordial continuum
Dusk is getting dusky
Sun’s alone basking farther from hillocks
Days are happening daily
Death-bells are tuned timey at churchyards
No chirping gets them stopped
Siblings and plants are getting greener duly
Arteries seem to be busier than honey-bees

Oh,
Dear poet!
Where has gone your Sun?!
Bravo! Bravo!! Bravo!!!
“Of course, Yes.”
No more you’re Sun
No more sons you’ve
Now and never then
Our Sun is setting unto the East
Into the warm lap of mother-earth
Where nomadic Huns stopped to think
And, friendly ants start to reshuffle the histories
Where unploughed margin of your memory
Getting avowed to attain more
And
Liminal thread for life’s balance sheet
Happily but heavily telling the story of affection and affliction
Their thrust of love
Innocence of their heartbeats
Purity of their bosoms
And never-ever unsolved equation
Of words and worlds
Being aside at and some where
At Muster points of meeting and parting
Love only love
Love to myself
Love to humanity
Love to hatred
Love to love
Where Death’s dearth
Life’s in claustrophobia
Existence is bloomed
Life harkens an eternal voice of civilizations
“Aba! Aba!!”
“Lamma sabacthani!! lamma sabacthani!!”
“Peace be upon you”
“Peace be upon you”
No more wars in the lands of none
No more fights in the psyches of none
No more feuds in no man’s lands

Repeatedly yet persistently
Sandy is the Sand
Hot is Sally and sales
Both are beguiling
Beguile is thrown into air
“Listen to the sound of silence,
Listen to the voice of de-voiced;
And listen to the backward portion of margins”

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