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| Kushal Poddar |
Alchemy of contemplation
I
One pigeon explodes
into the sky and glides by
in a circle. Its flock draws
the formation again and again
until perfection zeroes in,
and they bring it back to our home.
On the flat roof we all, one now,
pirouette in the air
with everything else
as if gravity is a myth.
A fistful of grains settle the situation,
and the alchemy of the summer Sun
turns the seeds into gold.
II
A sorrow flies in,
and after a spin around
the centre table, almirah,
rocking chair and bookshelf
finds the orifice again.
I shall name the sorrow soon
until then it is a bird.
III
My father goes to buy some chew toys and biscuits for memory.
If it barks at him when he returns without anything in his hands only he hears that.
Only I see him moving, limping,
bending, stretching.
Today the ghost of rain releases
from the dirt's coffin.
I feel up my lungs with it.
My eyes dilute and beam.
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