(
I )
Midsummer hath dried up thy heart
Not a puddle to see; a vast desert
Thy track became: imagine what I found
In thee, once so deep and profound –
Dry rotten weeds, rusty bars and thorny
shrubs
Tangled
hair and cracked edges, marks of wear and tear
Worthless junk thrown away by some person
Tattered
clothes, rags and dry bones of a butchered hog
And skeletal remains of a drowned poor
pariah dog
And rocks of different shapes and sizes
lying bare
Greeted my inquisitive view; the shock of
reality
Sapped my disappointed heart with
summer blaze.
( I I )
No mystic message have you conveyed but
showed
Thy barren track; no colorful swimming fish beneath
Thy glassy bosom of water but dry
sandy dunes ;
I dreamt of seeing mysteries beyond my
earthly vision
The
holy relics of the past or sacred figurines of crystal
Left buried in thy sandy bed or Nature’s curious
works
So secretly wrought of multi-colored stones
and shells
With whorls so
delicately marked or antique coins
With worn out
figures or shards of bygone times
Left as relics of
undiscovered times when rulers spent
Their means on
glorious temples and mansions great;
Nor did I find the magic herbs and foot-prints
of nymphs
So charmingly portrayed by poets in romantic lore;
Midsummer hath opened the doors of stark
reality
And showed me
what I never guessed to find.
( I I I )
I lock the hope within,
oh sylvan brook!
To see the
flowing silver stream of life
Fill thy bare
lap again with charms full;
And make thy
banks again awaken with sweet life
When August
rains of south-west herald with speed
The glorious
sight of swelling waterfalls
And fills my heart with a strange
throbbing rapture
To see the ring
of wonder surround the common life;
Oh flowing
stream of life! Wonder of wonders!
Flow on
unchecked in thy own free way!
Flow on through
hills and vales as freely as a lay
Lending
a mystic touch to our earthly life, I pray.
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23rd April, 2017 Somaseshu Gutala
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