From all tiled corners they eye me.
They are still, very still with ceramic poses
And values. I round them and gaze
At the jaundiced and sea-coloured beings.
Their silky clothes and gold ornaments
Shawl them rich, like an afterbath of milk.
These godfolk are a myriad: elephant-headed,
Lotus-chaired and the crescent-haired one that
Stands bluely with a coiled cobra necking him.
They annihilate me with their icy stares.
They almost know the refusal
Of my belief system.
A ring of fire-dews burns in front of me,
I bless myself. a little vermillion eye finds itself
Deathly in between my brows.
The bell is being whipped in fatal threes.
Shalini Nayar
© 2002
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:31 AM UTC
From all tiled corners they eye me.
They are still, very still with ceramic poses
And values. I round them and gaze
At the jaundiced and sea-coloured beings.
Their silky clothes and gold ornaments
Shawl them rich, like an afterbath of milk.
These godfolk are a myriad: elephant-headed,
Lotus-chaired and the crescent-haired one that
Stands bluely with a coiled cobra necking him.
They annihilate me with their icy stares.
They almost know the refusal
Of my belief system.
A ring of fire-dews burns in front of me,
I bless myself. a little vermillion eye finds itself
Deathly in between my brows.
The bell is being whipped in fatal threes.
Shalini Nayar
© 2002
