On Celtic notes of bagpipers
on the vast green highlands
behind those infinite pastures,
swaying pristine cherry-blooms leaves
with the melodies of autumn
winds, sits a mother nightingale
delicately twining, weaving ashen
wigs to build a nest for land’s
cold harsh winters for her
five little fragile babies
on Celtic lullaby of
bagpipers.
” On this brave land of martyrs
dwells aching women
longing for their
wounded men
to come
home.”
I am ready for the one thousand and one death,
unhurried torturous and slow painful even to grotesque
death, which I’ve embraced multiple times without
any peevish complaints of my fate, trampled and
trodden in the jarring folds of hefty Earth.
Since my conception in the unfathomable wombs
of rusty mud I carried within my exposed heart
an aching fright of the howls of shrieking winds.
Today I lie decomposed a bleached carcass, a
bulbous mass of my former-self, insipid and pale.
The spectators can witness the mutilations of thousand
deaths incised on my bare veins as the raucous Earth
continues to compress me in her piercing buckles
grinding meat-loaf in an absurd Sisyphean procession
a futile, all a vain exercise, as I will rise again from
my frugal ashes, oozing out my aimless head born
from the vaginal tubes of the ashy soil, with a numbing
terror of the waling winds of sweeping autumn. Born
once again to die another one thousand and one deaths
just enough to cover a full circle.
.
In the flat plateaus across the tall mountains,
a mythical land with blistering fountains
adorns like a jewel known as Valley of Hope
A fabled basin where the birds of north elopes
The gentle wizard of autumn transforms colors
of the leaves into hues of pinks, and yellows
Knowing well that the change is the divine law,
and the autumn’s magic spell is without a flaw.
On the pilgrimage heavenly birds who falls
like Icarus, rests in golden shrines and calls
the withered leaves and petals to surrender
on the little graves on the way to holy voyage.
A land abundant with imperial orchids so royal
brimming with lovely Magnolias and flamboyant
Bougainvillea’s, here migratory birds make homes
away from winter’s wrath in cozy Mangrove wombs.
