Shared Silence

halfway through my amazement

about your teachings and silence

I start moving again

bumbling and staggering

through a course of self-made soups.

determined not to lose it

not to miss or misplace

I clutch at the rosary

day and night, day and night

whisper for the iron heart

to be warm and malleable.

this time round I won’t

touch the moon reflected

in the dewdrops

I won’t let the lake

drown anybody before me

I will hold in highest regard,

every pore on the bricks

moss and all, uneven soil,

the temple bell, centuries,

sacred texts, echoes of recitation

vibrating in the noisy towns

to drop all sense of sense

turn the pepper crusher in hand

doing what is meant to be done

wonder about the petals of lotus

how they open, and pray.

Aanand

A Shawl for All

When he chose silence it was

such a flourish, it had to be shared

with everyone or anyone who heard

leaves, windows, blank page

rustled, creaked, gawked

at his un-worded confidences

skies rushed with clouds grey

rumbling threatening, lest

their business was disturbed

workers on the road - construction

shopkeepers, geeks to work -

grumbled, and ignored his advances

phones rang, radios sang, even birds

shook wet wings, their movement

relentless, so absorbed

he was like a child charged with joy

sans cause, touching the palette

unknown, without expressions

a boulder by the river, a floating

feather, a friend’s memory, barbs

the wrongly said - they all dissolved

without disappointment or elation, he

moved soundlessly with the unuttered

making a shawl for all silences.

Aanand