I catch myself by surprise as I talk
“Is that me?” I whisper to myself
“Is that me talking with
“the persistence of a single bird
“ on a remote rooftop
“singing to a noisy neighborhood?
“Is that me?
“I have come a long way” I smile to myself
And repeat as if I am dreaming loud:
“I have come a long way
“shedding the ashes of silence
“to speak with the frankness of a burning piece of coal
“Naked, glowing, and articulate!
“Setting fire to whatever dares come close.
“I sure have come a long way!”
There is a moment of pause
A quiet soothing instance of contemplation
And a simple satisfying sense of being
No particular urge to say more
But I continue:
“My voice is carried by a wind from the East”
Now I speak in the imperial tone poets can fake so well
And there is a distinct tinge of excitement
At the exotic sound of the word EAST
(wondering if anyone caught me “othering” myself!)
“My voice is carried by a wind from the East”
“But my heart is not bound by direction
“For I have a hundred hearts
“Each beating in a different chest
“pumping blood into bodies I don’t even recognize”
No more imperial aloofness!
Now I glide playfully from word to word
Feeling weightless, completely free from space
With a pleasure rare to poetic flights.
Taking the words in one by one
To Savor their color, flavor, and taste
drinking them like a cup of cold nourishing milk.
I am interrupted by an intruding thought
And look!
Now, I am pulling my own leg:
“Pity each heart is filled
“With uncertainties of a hundred kind!
“Pounding to make sense of its own confusing race”
“Not able to see an inch beyond personal despair”
“So what!” I argue with myself shrugging my shoulders
“I am not alone in this
“We all need a cure for the color-blind eye
“that denies the sky its vibrant overflowing turquoise!
“And a heart obsessed with the rhythm of its own pounding.”
I must have been effective
For, there is another pause
A longer one this time – and not of the contemplative kind
I feel the tingling of agitation inside
Not so much anger as one might say eruption.
In fact, it is hard to stay seated
“Point me to one hermit!” I almost shout at the top of my voice
“Point me to one hermit! One wakeful eye!
“And I will walk you through the night
“To where the orange blossoms greet a new sun
“every single dawn
Then I lower my voice:
“ And I will take you to that
‘remote important region’ I visit every time I talk.”
I sit down,
Catching myself by surprise once more
Like I do every time I talk.
May 19, 2000