lethe is a word I don't know how to follow
like galaxies in noon time of a day like a lidded jar
followed by a night so hot the idli batter overferments.
it's a word I've forgotten how to follow.
I can't remember if that was my own choice.
forgotten roads must have been highways in living.
walking to the wash-basin balancing a cup on a saucer
climbing the stairs with a glass of rasna, crossing road.
all this has already happened thousands of years ago -
when the caveman entered his cave, there were poppies.
he had a three-battery torch he could kill an antelope with
& a singing mirror. before he entered the cave he remembered
a cavewoman watching animals, through his bow
drinking from the pond without table manners, their drinking
being prayer & the water being quenched thankfully.
she blushed like red-gold patches on a rock
preparing bed for the pioneer mushrooms.
but he forgot her like I forgot
how to follow words, words I cannot remember
on the threshold of another cave.
~Ajay
29/12/2019
YOU ARE READING
bliss station ~ poetry
Poetry~ where is your bliss station / you have to try to find it ~
