Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 2, 2015

Intruder~by Kanchan Bhattacharya




Melancholia, my mistress Ophelia insane
I seek you in the mist; alone in the rain
Of fading memories; dark clouds
A night wrapped- a shawl, a shroud

I look for a mirror; the truant one
That questions and leaves answers none
Why grief comes to me
When joys are leaves on an acacia tree
Rife with that yellow bloom
In my summer days and wintery gloom
There was once the vagrant joy,
Of ecstasy and mysteries that one plays like toys
Now yes, I look for a mirror
One to show, to wonder who I mourn for,
Sorrowing, simmering amid restless waves
Of expired turf; of meandering thoughts of graves
Through old words; into these poesy times
You intrude, my mirror, on cold rhymes
Of eaves falling in white rows
Of carcasses amid the falling snow

Conscience tells me of my escapist ways
This paradox of needing and yet ablaze
Mirror I look for myself; hidden soul
Behind the images; astir; the incomplete whole

So intrude; steal a little of the sapient tornado
That storms the citadels of sanity; a cosmos
Of chaos; let the surging breath of life’s flow
Bloom again in resilient hues; the morning rose

© kanchan January 02, 2014

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