Bhaskar Paul's Poem


Teesta Review: A Journal of Poetry, Volume 2, Number 1. May 2019. ISSN: 2581-7094



Void

Have you experienced the void?
I ask in all honesty.
That it's mysteries are fathomless,
did that cross your mind?

A beauty such as this could not have had a place,
in mortal mind and the universe.
The black was at its blackest,
but somehow silky and pure, devoid of mortal scrutiny,  in itself so pure.

You my friend had lauded the raven's black feathers,
to you they  were the blackest of the black.
Or maybe as childish desires you had touched your mistress's hair,
all the while the blackest of the black.

Did black comfort you?
Did you not hide under the blankets during one summer
to get your fill of black?
It was probably after you had lost your umbrella,
and got  drenched in the misfortunes of the yore.

Black did comfort me,
since my earliest days.
I used to dive under the pillows and the blankets,
go give myself a dose of much needed solace
I believed that black was my guardian angel,
today in this void I am in.

I had left my mortal remains,
eons or so left behind.
Or was it yesterday,
timeless I have become.

I heard moans but that was too long ago,
or was it yesterday I really do not know.
The void asked me not to moan,
but  led me silently  but surely towards the infinity I belong.

I float in utter void,
the soft silky hands comforting me,
No I do not see a speak of light,
nor tunnels anywhere.

As I am being pulled
to a new dimension.
I just had the time to look back once more,
I witness myself as a ridicule In the dimension I had left.

I have become a part,
a parr of unimaginable,
All my strive at present,
is to reach the perfectness of my soul.