Reading Time: < 1 minute
A thought-provoking, inward-looking autobiographical poem by Sangita – exclusively for Different Truths.
Water in the tea kettle Shimmers with bubbles An expectation of a rising tempo Weaving through swirls of rising steam A vision of a story. The memory of my story My own, very own story. But... No new story. Is there ever such a thing? Only a new package A new permutation Different narration That can wring The heart dry Or squeeze tears out From a long-forgotten well Only a new perspective If at all there is such. Fern fronds unfurling In the gentle warmth of spring Waking, yawning, stretching While each frond formed Proudly unique The fern stands eternally young, As old as the Earth. No new story. My life though my own, My story, not mine lingers at the edge of time As old as the stardust my bones are made from The tea kettle whistles A new tune Tea leaves transform Dust from millennium Into a limpid brown pool. A surge of smiles.
Picture design by Anumita Roy
