Poetry: Mousumi Banerjee

Mousumi Banerjee
They took the time

The little girl
     Loves to paint,
          Eyes.
Eyes that are blue tassels in the ocean
Eyes that rain in the Amazon
And eyes that tell stories of Grandpa,
    Reciting the Gayatri Mantra
        While she chased butterflies!

One summer evening
     When the sun was about to set
            On the green mango slivers laying on the bamboo bed,
Her mother saw in the painted eye
         Long black tresses of hair
               Just the way her daughter would wear
                     Undone, unkempt!

So she sat her down
      Parting and combing 
           The strands and curls.
She took the time
    To rub warm oil
         And sprinkle drops of water
   Cut the broken ends
       And touch the chapped parts.
She took the time.
To catch a lock
   And ride a wave
Pat on the left
  And linger on the right.
She took the time.

To weave a single braid!
A braid that held
  Every color of the rainbow
     Every caress of the earth
        And waterlily smell
In the little girl’s eyes!

Because
               they
                       took
                               the
                                     time!
***


One innocent September

One innocent September
Your voice meant to me
More than the rustle of golden yellow leaves.

That soft September was shortened 
By new walls in your room
Painted in restless colors.
The lasagna served in your blue Delft porcelain
Smelled lies.

My silence tiptoed into the midnight bedroom
And went to rest
By the unscathed candle!
***


Interstate 75

Interstate 75
Tunnel of trees
Lunch on one napkin
For two from Pizza Pappalis.

Painted rocks
Untold tale
Andante in C minor
Raindrops on Joshua Bell.

Love settles
   On the clouds
       Over Kurseong hills,
Midnight whispers
     Stay on I-75
        Stay in silence, please!
***


Identity crisis

A naïve bamboo lantern
Electrocuted by a dangling chord
Connected to a 220 volt outlet.

Leadership summit for women
Podcast going live
She shakes hands with solitude.

Longing and aching
For the caller who doesn’t call
Because depression is like an infectious disease.

Best mom 
Kisses her children goodnight
Writes “the readiness is all” …..
***

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