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poem by m k harikumar

Mist

The misty crest of Munnar melting apart
in to clouds, sky and ocean

It becomes whiter and whiter resembling
the ever-depressing sense of separation
and gets toned down in showers

In the township, the mist
is both spiritual relief
and refreshing for the tourists

Among the tall eucalyptus soldiers
who are yet to wake up from dreams,
the clusters of mist become puzzles

The epic expanse of the mist
escorts the well disciplined
regiment of tea plants parading on the slopes

The eucalyptus trees are like sentries
in the sacred woods of eternal love

The echo-point in the woods
keep on reverberating the words,
“I love you”

The wings of swans vanish
bidding adios

The nuptials of affections
dig tunnels into the past
where carcasses
of forbidden love lie scattered

The packets of “tata tea”,
the invisible embraces of Kannan Devan hills
stretching out from the green
slopes of Munnar

The abstractness of memories
vomited by pain and
the glistening wilds which
wipe away the fearsome grief

Now there is only mist,
the language, the ritual, the religion and the god

trans:saj mathews

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