At times, I am that house without the sparrow. My windows and doors still wait for it to sneak in. The walls still wait to hear its excited chuckles...
At times, I am that house
without the sparrow.
My windows and doors
still wait for it to sneak in.
The walls still wait
to hear its excited chuckles.
The nooks and niches
still wait for its determined beak
to tuck in its nest.
While, with its patience
I still wait for my poem
to hatch and hop out unsteadily,
covered with straw and leaves,
it is as surprised as the chicks !
Often I want to know…
where am l?
Where is the universe?
Then the words,
the thought
leaves my brain,
flows with my blood
to my every cell,
every nerve
from head to toe,
goes to the earth below,
grows with the roots,
then climbs the trees
slides from the leaves,
catches the wind,
blows up, to the clouds,
the sky, up till the moon
shoots still above,
round and round the sun
spins with the planets,
then spins with the Milky Way
travels still away, to galaxies
but then... then comes a void,
a darkness, a nothingness
my thought boomerangs
comes back to my mind,
the universe it seems is not till
where my mortal eyes can see,
but it is, always was, right here
spinning within me,
endless, endless
This is how the rain is seeping in …
with a sound steadily falling
on the roof of my thoughts,
with the rain drops dancing
on the wet, glistening porch,
with the wet curtains shimmering
at the open windows and doors,
with the tap tapping voice sliding
from the roof ridge and eaves,
with the spray of gems sparkling
on the plants in the balcony,
with the lightning striking
with a loud bawl and yell,
and with the green moss spreading
on the wet wondering walls,
that’s how the rain is seeping in …
into my days, into my life
without even coming in.
When the storm is thundering
can you catch the wind
and stuff it in your pocket?
And the lightening, can you
record it within your ears
and play it anytime?
With the music of raindrops
can you dance like the
pitter-patter, tap, tap?
But, I have just captured
the storm in my words,
and folded the paper
into a paper boat.
Now my poem is ready to sail.
But, in these turbulent streams of water
how far will my words go?
(Minal Sarosh is an awarded Indian English poet, haikuist and novelist. She has published two novels, Soil for My Roots (2015) and Wicked Money (2020). And her two poetry collections are Mitosis & Other Poems (1992) and A Lizard’s Tail and Other Poems (2020). Her poems have been widely published in prestigious journals and anthologies including These My Words – The Penguin Book of Indian Poetry (2012) among others. She lives in Ahmedabad, India.)