In that world, where we were first introduced
I laid my eyes on a poem
The beginnings of a blue, tender.
We prepared to play you in me, and I learnt
Poetry is more than stroking this tapestry-
In this world, where beauty is in dawns never meeting
And the pond the sky,
We must sing you in us, in them.
Aren’t you a song now?
Drifting above mortals,
Travelling towards another world
Where blacks and whites disappear in harlequin chess boards,
Where birds of first flight flittering their wings
Give the highest delight?
(Dedicated to the artist- caught between the child and the saint- who is forever seeking home and freedom. Do not falter: they will come to you in time. You must never leave the road! You are in my prayers)