An Artist’s Alter

By Munmun

The sun, the glaring sun must drop

to make way for the moonlit path

The path, the path on pebbles built

 to lead you to the fort of charm

 The fort whose walls creepers weave   

with flowers coloured dark and deep

Deeper the fountains sink and spring      

To lull one to an endless dream.  

Oh give life, a life of charm

An artists’ pallet, colours warm

Marbles splashed with poet’s thoughts

Of love, of lust, of death, of frost

Let beauty come in the form of you

You whose feet I wash with blood

Till each my veins sap dripping dry   

They stare at us, the stars above

Ha! What music stirs the wind       

The wind excites corridors lost

Come to life you crystal beings

Beings of past, you beings of dreams

At your feet my harp I play  

Creation – you’re my only way

You moonlit walls, you pillar strong

You are my truth, all else is wrong

Wrong as the sun, the glaring day

I sing of shadows, that’s my way

For when your candles wake to spark

I feel a splash inside this heart

Vision like a fairy comes,

Comes and holds my finger tight,

And leads me through a maze of gold,  

That gold, I write of that untold

Each feeling like a creeper grows

Grows covering me from head to toe                                                             

Oh what bliss your birth brings on

Raising thunder raising storm

Each red bud will bloom, it will

shadows of love, save or kill

One more stone on the path I lie

One more stone to the castle high

Reality? Dream? Of what afraid?

What is lost, all done and said?

The End

Tapan Sinha’s Kshudhita Pashan, (1961)

Photography – Gautam

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