Untitled -21

Put your ear to the door of the universe:
do you hear star-birth?
the song of the void?
lost whispers…whispers…?
desire?
chaos?
time?

Don’t the same sounds echo inside you?

Except on some nights:
except on some nights
when all you hear is the silence
of an empty bucket being lowered
into a bottomless well
not stopped by a sudden splash of water.

Children were killed in tents.
Children were killed in refugee camps.
Children were reduced to bits, to parts, to earth.

What you hear is the wordless dirge
the absence
the vacated space
the never-after
the nothing
the cries before there were tears
colours before there was sky
white before there was the first flicker of light—

At the door of the universe
the quiet piles up
hold your breath
hold your breath
listen hard:
that is the sound
of thirst before there was water
of life before there was death
of bad before any good ever happened.

***

For Mary’s prompt at What’s going on? – Doors

20 thoughts on “Untitled -21

  1. What a fabulous opening stanza, Rajani! And then the shift to the ‘silence of an empty bucket being lowered into a bottomless well not stopped by a sudden splash of water’ – so devastating, especially followed by repetition and the images of the children ‘reduced to bits, to parts, to earth’. You made gasp at these lines:

    ‘that is the sound
    of thirst before there was water
    of life before there was death
    of bad before any good ever happened.’

    I wish we could send your poem to all the warmongers and evil-doers. I’m sure it would touch them too – if they are indeed human.

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  2. With such vast possibility, it’s doubly awful that we also hear, or especially hear:

    “the sound
    of thirst before there was water
    of life before there was death
    of bad before any good ever happened.”

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    1. Thanks so much Sumana… that is an incredible scultpure and am overwhelmed that this poem reminded you of it. In the end that’s what art is for – to show how we see the world or ourselves in it…

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  3. “At the door of the universe
    the quiet piles up
    hold your breath
    hold your breath
    listen hard:”

    Such vivid and painful images in your poem. So much chaos and hurt in our midst. And the deaths of so many children. Such sadness in our world!

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  4. Your opening stanza leaves me breathless at its concept – listening for star-birth, the song of the void. And the switch to the children dying, and the dirge and then – at the doorway again – that silence and the impactful closing lines. Wow, Rajani. So good.

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