Walking in Jaipur

the sun rolled down the Aravalli hills,
kneeling for a moment on the desert floor,
as if in quiet prayer,
slipping quickly now,
into the sands of the afterday,
fingers cold, digging deeper,
finding mine
over the bones of ancient whispers;

the mirrors sewn into her veil
birthing a sky of dancing moons,
a princess despaired,
will it matter in a hundred years, two hundred,
the queen smiled,
as caparisoned elephants marched away,
her voice wet with the blood of a million battles,
to you, my dear, she said,
to you, it always will;

in the bitter cold of Jaipur’s streets,
where the high windows still lower their gaze,
we walk past pink city walls, stained with shivering night,
the quenched sun leading me,
fingers locked in mine,
sand silver in our hair like tears,
the stained glass
still warm from our lost breath.

Advertisements

36 thoughts on “Walking in Jaipur

  1. we walk past pink city walls, stained with shivering night,
    the quenched sun leading me,
    fingers locked in mine,
    sand silver in our hair like tears,
    the stained glass
    still warm from our lost breath.

    This is sooo beautiful!!! Ah Jaipur the glorious pink city 😀

    Like

  2. “will it matter in a hundred years, two hundred,
    the queen smiled,”

    Guess its will always matter, for life keeps renewing self, through generations.

    Thanks for dropping in at my Sunday Standard this morning.
    much love…

    Like

  3. Through your beautiful lines, so full of imagery, I, too, walked through the streets of Jaipur, the pink city. I especially loved the bones of ancient whispers and the dancing moons. Just lovely.

    Like

  4. Oh my. How gorgeous:

    “fingers cold, digging deeper,
    finding mine
    over the bones of ancient whispers;

    the mirrors sewn into her veil
    birthing a sky of dancing moons,
    a princess despaired”

    “sand silver in our hair like tears,
    the stained glass
    still warm from our lost breath.”

    Like

  5. Sun gods meet Queen and princess and me/we in heat and care, warmth and reflected light Each time I read, the narrator changes from the dead witness to those who linger half alive to those awake enough to welcome the handhold of the sun always kneeling beside us. Wow.

    Like

  6. You have sketched Jaipur, masterfully … I am there. And I love the form you have used with the stanzas – really love it – I may try sometime along that line myself, with the two “outside” verses being descriptive and the mid-verse being more of a commentary. Wonderful writing!

    Like

  7. Thank you for taking me to this place I’ve never been, but now long to see. To hear those ancient whispers from the pink city walls. Really like those high windows that lower their gaze. Have to wonder is it shyness, or curiosity?

    Elizabeth

    Like

  8. The verse in the middle interjected a beautiful magical feel to the piece. It made for an interesting contrast with the reality of the scenes described in the first and last verses.

    Like

Comments are closed.