Vijaya Sundaram

Poet, Musician, Teacher, and Amateur Visual Artist

Sun in a Universe Blacker than Night (Daily Prompt: Contrast)

In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Contrast

Sun in a Universe Blacker than Night
©March 9th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

The night presses so blackly
Against my cold window-pane,
That the absurd orange of
Fake cloth flowers holds it back.

Night staggers away, singing –
A drunk in delirium.
I am not fazed.  I sit and
Sing my song to solitude.

All around me press the ghosts
Of those past, and those to come.
I greet them and leave them be.
I have work to do right now.

Faraway ambulance wails.
Who goes where at 2:00 a.m.?
– Life so tenuous, like glass
Blown by a drunken artist!

I sit here calmly, knowing
As sure as the sun will rise
That I shall live, and live long.
This is not dumb arrogance.

Somewhere, dawn breaks over hills
Here, though, I fight the night with
Borrowed light, and invite sleep,
Comfort and warmth in silence.

Such foolishness to presume
That such things will always exist!
And yet, what do I gain by
Speculating on disaster?

Somewhere, people fight and die
Somewhere, people starve and die
Somewhere else, women give birth
Till the fields, harvest the wheat.

And it hurts me, every day –
The wounds of all who live, and
The terrors of all who die.
Still, I dream, and sing my song.

And the earth keeps spinning on,
Blue marble seeking her boy.
Her Sun keeping watch in a
Universe blacker than night.

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Bound for Canaan (Prompt: Farewell, Poetry, Day 10)

Bound for Canaan
©December 18th, 2015
By Vijaya Sundaram

Hello!  Goodbye! in one breath,
We come into our birth and death,
We fly in and out,
Our cries are a shout,
Huddling together, we sisters and brothers
Seeking some warmth and love from each other,
Seeking a word or even a sign
That who we are is totally fine,
We gather our fruits
And look for our roots.
Upside down, our
Visions abound.

We see with our ears —
We shed a few tears,
We hear with our eyes —
Our breath is a sigh.
We taste with our nose —
And cling with our toes.
Then, before the gilding dawn,
We know it’s time to move along.
So, one by one, we take off in flight,
Finding our way to infinite night.
Was it just a hazy dream?
We ask, as we float on upstream.

But the stars guide our ears,
And our wings help us steer,
And something pulls us up and on.
It’s time to go, and be unborn.
The thorn goes in, the rose grows red,
And though your hearts be filled with dread,
Do not mourn, and do not grieve,
It’s only right for us to leave.
And so, my friends it’s time I went,
The dark star calls, where light is bent.
And so, goodbye, my lovely friends
We’ve found some life, and now it ends.
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P.S.  Feeling philosophical, not gloomy.

P.P.S.  Also, it’s just a response to a prompt.  Do not worry!  🙂
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Exhortation (OR: Who The Hell Knows What This is About?!)

 

Exhortation

(OR Who the Hell Knows What This Is About?!)

©April 7, 2014

By Vijaya Sundaram

 

Force the wo-

rds

Cor-

ral them, he-

rd them

Cro

wd them, ha-

rass them

Cow them into sub-

Put them on the boat

That awaits all words.

 

Yes!

 

(Poetry thrives on this –

The fear of silence.

 

Prose does, too.

Except that it has

So much more space,

So much more leeway.

So much wind blowing

Madly through chapters,

Stirring our consciences,

Making us stammer out

Confessions.)

 

And, like a silken thread

Running palely blue and gold

Between words and worlds,

Silence glows,

A Presence

Waiting to be glimpsed,

An Absence

For whom we yearn.

 

Death can wait.

Death knows how.

Death lies low

Waiting to spring

From the shadowy recesses,

Near where Charon waits.

 

And Life turns

Her head, as she flees

The Silence,

While the words

Become a ghost,

Wailing for her

Orpheus, us.

And all around us,

Roll her echoes,

As we climb, sobbing

Into the light.