Orbiting and operating kisses
And nocturnal syrupiness
Of my beloved Indian Summer,
Entered my veins like carnations
Through my lips, tongue and Pen.
She burned and circulated Hope, Future
And portals into my Modern-death.
She never judged the neverness,
Undying-melancholy and evaporating-wounds
I got from the capital of Infinity.
She filled the dawns
Of my Heart and ART
With hot volcanic love and archipelagoes.
But, from her wettest-dimension
And wounded my mind
With thousand agonies, water-cries,
Absences, silences and tears of my beloved –
Indian feathered Monsoon.
To revive our ‘Eternalness’,
And L O V E L E T T E R S.
With branding language of light,
Darkness and blood,
Of ‘I’, the undisputed God Sunlight !
The freedom between Monsoon and I
Neither kisses nor dies.
In my sleeps, my dreams open my heart.
It is vacant, dry and dark as emptiness.
Emptiness as her silence.
Her green-supernova is a vanished saffron-Volcano.
Surprise may come as a beautiful buzz
And happiness its honey.
But, I only die ! . . I only die !
I only die and incarnate
For the next struggle or sweetness !
But, Indian Monsoon is my beloved wife,
My rebellious Indian lioness,
My beloved Earth,
My beloved Poetry, the Future.
And, she will come soon
For private sweetest struggles and freedom struggles,
As my beloved rebellious Spring.
~ Sanju Clement