Vijaya Sundaram

Poet, Musician, Teacher, and Amateur Visual Artist

At the Heart

At the Heart
©February 24th, 2017

By Vijaya Sundaram

It was always a spiral
An endless spiral, with an endless
Swirling centre plunging down
All the way, into the heart of everything,
And rising endlessly up, like a mad demon
Into the skies, ready to uproot.

Wisdom and knowledge, that is.
Knowing and forgetting,
Chaos and dust, and shining motes
Light-infused, light-saturated,
Water-suffused, water-logged –
The spiral lifts everything,
Everything that is rooted,
Thinking itself secure and firm,
And tosses it around like a rag doll
Smashing dreams, and reconstructing
Everything in a new reality.

Everything IS a new reality

My life is filled with forgetting,
Getting, losing, forgetting
Letting it all pass through me –
I’m a sieve, collecting grit and pebbles
And stones and dirt, rocks and houses.
And while the funnel funnels me up
And whirls me in its mad dance,
All that stone, and grit, and pebbles,
That dirt, those rocks and houses,
Lifted out of place, I catch briefly,
A glimpse of the calm, still place,
Filled with light, and for a moment,
I sit there, suspended, cross-legged,
Rising and falling, eyes closed,
Oblivious.
__________________________________________________