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The crow
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When mane-eyed,
We can catch your dialect
And caw with you.
The ritual hour
Always rates you high,
When you stand on ceremony
To peck your ball of lunch,
Crowing over your occult plumes,
Soaring to astral pitch.
But your breach of norms
After your mission,
Blackens you into a paradox.
And the stainless
Envoy that you were of our departed,
Then flaps along
With the common flight of wings,
A veritable votary of pollution.
A shade always
To the pious in the hearth,
Your scullery duggery
Fine tunes their jet of fancy,
Scuttling their sense of reason.
Still an oaf
You are of the ground realities,
Hatching alien atoms
Along with yours,
In your nest of creation,
And
The muse of Hughes
In charmed despair,
Singing a black mass,
Panders
To your satanic puissance. |
-By G. Viswanathan
('From An Ampler Ether')
(Appeared in 'Mother India' Sri Aurobindo Ashram, November 1979)
Flat 104, Banashankari Residency,
8th Main, Girinagar 2nd Phase,
Bangalore 560 085.
Phone: (080) 6721125
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