Listening a Song
By Jyothsnaphanija
A quarter minute before the sunlight
Time encircled sea.
thinks about mysticism of music?
wraps like the invisible
Pouring on to the revery of sand.
Some lines are vertical.
Some lines are too small.
Some lines never get into the scale.
Some words are just whispered.
Hours after hours
Cubed, remade,
Words take a new life.
It is only the loss of memory
That can bring back
The lost glass
Filtered voices, strained thoughts,
Unwritten languages,
Into the off-beat.
It is only a song,
Until a naturally melancholic listener
Decodes the secrecy
Of composer’s love.
Jyothsnaphanija teaches English Literature at ARSD College (University of Delhi), India. She has her work recently appeared and forthcoming in The Hopper, Teesta Review, The Chakkar and others. Her poem ‘See’ from her first poetry collection Ceramic Evening is prescribed in the syllabus for Literature and Disability paper for English Hons. Course in the UG Programme at the University of Delhi constituent Colleges.
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