The flying course of butterflies
The primitive butterflies resembling
the miniscule bones of time flew up
on the skyways of silence fluttering
their fragile wings
Engrossed in a detached ecstasy,
they hovered around utterly blind
to the invisible tracks
of souls that crisscrossed along
cutting and slicing each other
and turned into puzzles
Scaling heights from the depths of time,
they discarded the bodies
fallen in battlefields of
Kurushethra and Kalinga
The funeral rites of the butterflies
over the deserted corpse
of the youth lying on the plateau;
Chanting some primitive mantras
they got immersed in prayers
On the feet of the corpse hovered
the song of the butterflies in anguish
for the outdated and dusted revolutions
On the body, the democratic pollination
of butterflies for Bharath,
the land blessed with food grains and fruits
On the hands the compassionate kisses
of the butterflies for bygone ages of might and power
and also for the resurrection of broken romances
from the abyss of the past
On the forehead, the greeting thilak
of the butterflies for the physical
transformation of
Arithmetic and Brahmasutra
Over and around the body, the butterflies
still traced many an unknown tracks
that never begin nor end anywhere
As the butterflies departed after finishing
their colorful waltz, the bygone tracks
of the dead youth too dissolved into nothingness
just as the pathways of the butterflies.
The primitive butterflies resembling
the miniscule bones of time flew up
on the skyways of silence fluttering
their fragile wings
Engrossed in a detached ecstasy,
they hovered around utterly blind
to the invisible tracks
of souls that crisscrossed along
cutting and slicing each other
and turned into puzzles
Scaling heights from the depths of time,
they discarded the bodies
fallen in battlefields of
Kurushethra and Kalinga
The funeral rites of the butterflies
over the deserted corpse
of the youth lying on the plateau;
Chanting some primitive mantras
they got immersed in prayers
On the feet of the corpse hovered
the song of the butterflies in anguish
for the outdated and dusted revolutions
On the body, the democratic pollination
of butterflies for Bharath,
the land blessed with food grains and fruits
On the hands the compassionate kisses
of the butterflies for bygone ages of might and power
and also for the resurrection of broken romances
from the abyss of the past
On the forehead, the greeting thilak
of the butterflies for the physical
transformation of
Arithmetic and Brahmasutra
Over and around the body, the butterflies
still traced many an unknown tracks
that never begin nor end anywhere
As the butterflies departed after finishing
their colorful waltz, the bygone tracks
of the dead youth too dissolved into nothingness
just as the pathways of the butterflies.
poem: m k harikumar