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Debashish Banerji

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WRITING > CREATIVE > MYNA MAY 2010

 

a few days only
you filled my home with your flutter
your hop, chirp, trust and companionship
where the present tries to perch with its claws
clinging to thin air

a few days
a little fire mingling with mine
a little heart beating with my heart
a soft warmth so familiar yet so alien
prying memory's casements

W. B. Yeats knew well
or maybe his poetic wisdom
when he imagined Leda against the rush of feathers
wondering at the strange heart infusing its rhythm
in trans-human becoming

there too a bird
enacted god's unthinkable violence
but a vast one not your light scratch in time
the winged cosmic rhythms that wander ceaselessly
creating destroying.

and with positions reversed
the human a precarious guest there
visited by the passion of the undying breath
the mental in awe of the supramental
trusting yet unknowing

one encounter
enormous in global hisory
charred remains of continents, cities, belongings
another an indelible perfume at the edge of memory
too sweet, too bitter

Yeats wondered
At the relation between Knowledge and Power
Assimilation of wisdom at god's burnout intensity
Rudra's ruinous steps masking Vishnu's intelligence
And Human incapacity

I too wonder
Are we incidental only
Bundles of sentience subject to recombinant accidents
Compulsive cartographers of subjective meaning
epic or lyric

Patriarchs of Illusion
Or mobile habitations of divinity
Birds of passage in a world of transitions
conscous wills expanding through appearance disappearence
Border-crossings

who comes to whom
or what seeks and what finds
in our little lives a vast mystery lurks
or the nameless mystery assumes a little name
hopping in wonder

who longs for whom
stretching across unbridgeable gulfs?
locked in dense wraps of bone, muscle, thought, feeling
and uncontrollably carried in circulations
all seek release

lives repeated
a dim memory grows of typal limits
to some the prison is not outside but inside
intuition of greater being draws close like evening
sister of transcendence

who were you bird
brief friendship of broken wing
seeking closeness to the incomprehensible, hop to the human
or swan of the supreme and spaceless ether wandering winged through the universe
in myna's body

and who am i
to you or to me intersubjective
your gift of togetherness unhinging personal identity
discloses the rim of infinity's braided becomings,
self-traversals.

 

 

 



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