Marigold Garland


Silhouetted against the saffron sky
reflected perfectly in the stream below
An orange marigold garland escaped cremation, floated in the current…
Wheels of my dreams traveled through night
Light cast from filigree lamp transformed my room into shadow play
Below the river turned molten in pain…
Spring air was sweeter in halcyon days
Winter days aglow with tulips and crocus…
And this summer night is not so calm,
as it is used to be…
Under the dappled sky
When the moon appeared in bewitching blue…
Your hands always seek mine
and let me not deprive thine…
Is it a delicious dream
Or a sinful delight
Is it firm as the vault of basilica
Or just a novel passion as polo?
As you sleep thousands of miles away from home
With fresh summer willow on your satin pillow
Mail coach man would bring you this letter
Send with him a reply wrapped in astonishing kisses
And raging fire in passion
that you never leave me in disaster
And do not tell me that
You cannot nest in my leafless bough.

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About Rekha Moothedath

I'm a teacher by profession, hailing from Calicut, south-west coast of India. I was brought up in a huge joint family, a home in lush greenery and a mile away from the sea shore. Being married to a defense personnel, has enabled me to travel widely within India and once made me write a poem on the great Andaman islands. I did my post graduation in History and I do research papers and have published a paper on medieval Indian feudal society, in the International History Congress. Sometime in the late nineties initiating a life time love with Latin American poetry I mustered up all my passions in writing. Though my head fought battles and spoke peace, poetry was always a deeply embedded part of my soul and I was enamored of her beauty and traveled through the emotions of tempest and silence and overcame the desolation.

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