Vijaya Sundaram

Poet, Musician, Teacher, and Amateur Visual Artist

Slingshot – Poem-Response to “Pigeon” (film by Anthony Green)

This is my second Poem-Response to “Pigeon” (film by Anthony Green)

Slingshot

©By Vijaya Sundaram

April 9th, 2013

Poor, poor bird,

Alone in the world

At the mercy of boys

With slingshots.

 

Just there,

Nowhere else to go

Nothing else to do

But just be and peck

At crumbs of mercy

Tossed its way.

Every crumb matters

Every gesture burns

As a brand in the dark.

Every act of goodness

Lasts an eternity.

 

Though the cruel day

Comes, hell-bent on

Exposure and betrayal,

Each kindness leaves

A trace.

 

And the bird survives for

Another day, another hour.

Though cruelty

Dogs its steps.

 

Every kindness brings

Life.

Every saving brings

Hope.

Every crumb brings

Fullness.

 

And somewhere,

In another world

In another time,

Those traces will come

To live and glow

Through eternity.

 

And life will take wing

In the light of peace.

And only goodness will

People that world, with

No slingshots in sight.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Teacher: A Glimpse As I Passed By

Teacher: A Glimpse As I Passed By
(For Val)
©By Vijaya Sundaram
April 4, 2013

Almost in the abyss,
A young boy howls in
Soul-agony, a torment
That he cannot understand.
He sobs, beast-desolate
In the hallway, uncluttered
By others.  

I approach,
And see this:
Kindly teacher,
Clad in blue
Pats him gently,
Inexpressibly kind.

“It’ll be all right.
You’ll be fine.”
Her voice like soothing
Balm in Gilead,
Pours solace on his
Strange, wounded mind.
(For he is undeniably
Different from the others.)

Her goodness, a candle
Steady in his darkness,
Completely undoes him.
I walk by, heading elsewhere,
And try not to intrude.

He howls louder,
Lurches against her.
She hugs him with such love —
A well-spring
Of love, she is
An angel of beauty
An angel of warmth
Goodness glowing golden,
Like an energy-field
Around her.

All the comfort he needs
He finds right here,
In her enveloping frame
All the goodness nestled
In the encircling warmth
Of her motherly embrace.

And no matter what this child
Suffered today, whatever else
Torments, grips and twists
His grief-stricken heart,
He will remember this:

When he was most
Desolate and undone,
When he was most
Alone and abyssal,
There was someone.

And she leaned
Over the abyss
Plucked him up,
And brought him back
From the brink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~