The cold pressure of the fan,
Yared's violins in my ear...
I look through the pages inside...
The pen in my hand,rests...
It has a blank page to fill...
Searching,earnestly,my mind,
switches to faster speed...
Drums are beating,
mourning the death,
and the tempo lowers...
Yes,Yared agrees,
hero is gone...
Elegiac tunes echo in piano...
Woman,clad in black,
a single tear on her cheek,looks...
A silence,
mute,dark,smooth silence...
A silence whose music,
remains unparalleled,save by the slow retreat
of that long bow over violin chords...
Yes,I am listening,
intent meditation on the stringed God,
and I wonder at the miracle...
You see,silence engulfs the music,
music engulfs the silence...
And I float in that ether,
raised...
Silence and sound,divine synonyms,
brought to my mind...
The slow lament finishes,
Yared rests,and I see,
my page filled...
© Karthik Adithya Singaraju
2 comments:
VERY beautiful. I can hear the "mute dark smooth silence", and then....the violin. Really beautiful in mood. It drew me in.
Karthik,
This is a most beautiful poem.
Inspiration does come creeping slowly, from the least expected sources. Never give up, even in a moment when inspiration seems to have gone.
With the words that you find, your future writing is certainly assured.
Best wishes, Eileen :)
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