The scriptures say, I’ve heard them tell
this is not a homethe earth is just a carousel
you spin round with it for a spell
you dance a jig, you sing and marvel
and then when the metronome
marks the stop
you get off
and find a place to dwell.
So a change of roof here is a trifle
flat terraced or a domeand I should know that very well
yet I overwrap the fragile, breakable;
this porcelain and that crystal
with paper and plastic foam
I’m far too anxious
all this fuss
as if any roof is final!
Yesterday a harbour, today a channel
change is my only homeyet so much effort to make walls habitable
each roof loved, each window, each corbel
clutched too hard for easy farewells
as all things slowly transform
what flashes past
is that no homes last
they crumble and/or expel.
A delicate juxtaposition, a trial of contrasting emotions, of the deeply held belief and the human yearning for home.
ReplyDeleteIt brought back memories of the triptych on Hema and Kaushik in Jhumpa Lahiri's Unaccustomed Earth
That's a favourite of mine too. Flattered! thanks for reading.
Deletechange is my only home...i feel you...we should not cling too tightly to anything of this world....its just a carousel...smiles...
ReplyDeleteTotally :) thanks for being here.
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