When the poet Ajanta read my poem

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I have placed my poem in the hands of a burning volcano,

and stood hesitantly for a moment.

 

It is like a blade of grass  eager to share

How the spring has overwhelmed it,

Who else could understand the feeling, except

The mountainous forests of the eastern ghats.

 

If you like to read out your poetry

Find out someone with a great heart or

Consign it to fire.

 

When the world around is not ripe enough

The fiery vowels are your only solace.

 

I realised something for a lifetime:

That even to reflect a beautiful little thing

You need a translucent heart on the other side.

 

He nodded his head over my poem

And I fell flat before him.

 

( From Nirvikalpa samgitam, 1986)

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