Makara Sankranti Poem by Saroj Padhi

Summer winks at the door like a naughty child
with kites flaunting comic faces of politicians
in a cold January wind
under a glad Sun tightening muscles over the hill-
when boats on narrow streaks of river water
keep floating in search of a long lost thrill,
my daughter ferries to the temple-side bank
for a pre-wedding shoot with her fiance'
who is under the magic spell of nearing Gordian knot;

enticed by the over-hanging smell of Makara-rice,
the breeze lands onto the fields
for harvest of Green-gram and Black-gram;
though depressed, boughs swing like dead bodies
at news of felling of 1k trees to raise helipad for VIP copter,
the women of my love burn in a fire of jealousy
to add a new chapter to their endless small-town rumour;

it seems Summer has set in with new concoction of love
to enchant us away from hide-outs of rumourous Winter
filling dark spaces in mind with light of new love
in days after Winter-solstice growing bigger, broader and longer!