14: Oct 2016 #11 - Five Elements
Authored by Jubaraj Baruah
In the silted planks Of a wooden pyre The staple wind strums A gentle fire So featherless a light, faintly it crackles: The pores of A thick skin and the weight of his doubts. This indeed is: A quick demise in the stillest of hours. The circumambulating torchbearer stops: Droops his shoulders, To this very stipulated bye-gone doting. He has by now come to terms with A flexed muscle on weightless sand Recurring to lag behind A movement in a freeze frame He knows now what separates them from him Them, the five elements diffusing into one And him, a million stray doubts and a straight collar. Them, who shall ascend into the stars or sink free Him, who sweats, trembles and feels. The staple wind strums A gentle breeze And nothing.