(It is strange that in India, the year of news reportage in 2012 began with the death of a girl child and ended with the death of a woman medical intern, both murders.)
This year has been especially enlightening because of the interviews that I could do with gracious writers who shared their thoughts on the poetry process and the relevance of blogging when it comes to the elusive muse. I’ve included a Cloud Header so it’s easier for you to look for older posts.
I wrote this poem when I felt the words had left me…….
I’m surprised you invited me.
The walls fall away in your house
The floor plummets, look! the core of the ground.
Nothing to hold gravity, a gaseous thing?
I’m taking away my floating hat and coat,
My manners leave me. I cannot see your face distraught,
Land bereft, terrestrial thing that I am, your reality strikes me strange.
But here you are with the air in your hair, getting about by an odd twist of fate.
How can you live with the walls asunder, no roots to pull you down?
You never had it good, you tell me. You put your fingers to your lips and shut your eyes.
Simple things you wish for like a window that could dream.
Instead you navigate with flighty leaps across clouds and birds, try to spread
Wings of thermocole. I suppress a smile
At your attempt to fly.