Edina-11 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Late year be given a decent burial with crafty inscription
To hide all our misdeeds, misconceptions and immaterialised misgivings,
And to condemn them be rotten forever with ants and insects.
This graveyard is popular and perfect place unloading all our insincere utterances,
Giving the midus touch to the old faith that betrayed our faithful patience.
We are in here before the church bell struck twelve and complete the memorial
Till the pale summer moon goes for its usual rest and first song of morning bird.
Next we move to the garden to plant the new hopes and yarning,
Much before the place became too much congested by others
Gathering in large number with pious saplings of divine green
With sincere prayer for confirm blossoming of another fruitful year.
Now the garden is like carpet green with thousand trees and flowers,
Besiege by hundred bees flying unruly to extract the evening honey
To be stored in illicit bonnet before the night be too dark and deep.
The planters has gone, gone those pleasure bees and the gardener,
Place is looking haunting and a new paradise of invisible owls and flies,
Likewise the crowded temple with sonorous priests chanting sermon
With closed eyes murmuring prayers of sincere devotees before the draped divinity.
Now the same place looking aloof, dimly lit with stray dogs and sleeping beggars
And the master is on rest being too tired to hear the endless stupid prayers.
Prayers of new year and hidden pining of million years, torn and netted care,
Born out of artful spider works on limited gains and pleasures.
Let shift ourselves to that midnight grave to see any changes
That may be taken having sufficient soil over its tiny dome,
And we knew not what surprise is waiting to our utter disbelief,
Finding hundred roses happily sharing each other heavenly smell
As if giving an open invitation for us to commence a new spell of life, not so disappointing.
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