27 June 2016

Poem-A-Day #118 : Poem for Sunday

Poem for Sunday

I wonder about resurrection - about how things heal -

The skin on my finger has sliced open the two cliffs do not align and one becomes a tectonic subduction - there is a sucking - what can only be called flaps -

Someone jokes about the future - a wave of the Star Trek device over the wound and new skin is formed - the resurrection in seconds -

Each morning the world wakes - though this is only a phantom - the world never truly sleeps - the sun is a 24-hour lover -

Resurrection must take longer though - the two cliff faces have to weather to a smoothness that will not leave holes behind - the canyon must unfill and fill and monsoon often -

This gray skin - it must come back to life - I do not pray - I stare into the face of the unsleeping sun - I worry about fission and my retinas - but these too will heal -

ādityasya namaskāran ye kurvanti dine dine
āyuḥ prajñā balam vīryam tejasteśān ca jāyate

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