Teesta Review: A Journal of Poetry, Volume 1, Number 1. May 2018. ISSN: 2581-7094
My Birthplace
The wet mouth of the morning
sees the pilgrims
with good faith
enter the brown rivers.
This no blue, indulgent swallow
but a fervent wallowing in faith.
with good faith
enter the brown rivers.
This no blue, indulgent swallow
but a fervent wallowing in faith.
Waters swell in acceptance
carrying the hundred and eight names,
of the Ganges, mother of all life.
Here in Allahabad,
Ganges meets Yamuna and
the hidden Saraswati.
At my birth
the three rivers are high on monsoon.
I’m informed even shy Saraswati
drank from this wet bounty,
but without show of plenty.
Instead, with her underground secrets
trilled her welcome to me,
to me, Indira.
carrying the hundred and eight names,
of the Ganges, mother of all life.
Here in Allahabad,
Ganges meets Yamuna and
the hidden Saraswati.
At my birth
the three rivers are high on monsoon.
I’m informed even shy Saraswati
drank from this wet bounty,
but without show of plenty.
Instead, with her underground secrets
trilled her welcome to me,
to me, Indira.
The Day I
Die
--- Mala Antony
I will row
myself along the river
in late, late autumn; and
the sun will make the waters clap
and dance with mirrors.
On the day I die,
I will burnish all words into a perfect life
and take my last cup
of sweet, sweet Ganga.
in late, late autumn; and
the sun will make the waters clap
and dance with mirrors.
On the day I die,
I will burnish all words into a perfect life
and take my last cup
of sweet, sweet Ganga.
The day I
die,
the wind will stand aside
as I row myself past secrets.
Rainbows will bridge the river
as clouds pony along and nuzzle my soul.
The day I die,
I will row up this bittersweet shore,
where friends and strangers
make flavoured words
drip like autumn and
this earth will be rich.
I will die as I row beyond
this river of life.
the wind will stand aside
as I row myself past secrets.
Rainbows will bridge the river
as clouds pony along and nuzzle my soul.
The day I die,
I will row up this bittersweet shore,
where friends and strangers
make flavoured words
drip like autumn and
this earth will be rich.
I will die as I row beyond
this river of life.
As I row
I will die.