Sita Poem by Susanta Pattnayak

*Sita*

I. From Fire She Rose

From fire she rose, untouched by flame,
Declared as pure, yet met with shame.
The gods bore witness, skies stood still—
But trust was bent by mortal will.


II. No Garland, No Embrace

No garland came, no arms were wide,
No welcome walked the queen beside.
Though cleansed by trial, her truth was weighed—
Not by the gods, but doubts man-made.


III. A Throne Denied

A throne was carved, but not for her,
Though dharma stirred and hearts did stir.
She could have ruled, but laws were tied
To fear, not justice dignified.

V. Her Descent Was Her Decision

The Earth was not a grave she earned,
But soil to which her soul returned.
She was not pulled, nor forced to flee—
She sank to claim her dignity.



VI. The Silence of the Divine

No god descended with a plea,
No sage unchained her legacy.
The king stood still, the winds were dumb—
The age had failed what she'd become.

Coda: The Poet Declares

She was not taken—she withdrew,
From flames that judged what was not true.
She left behind both grief and crown,
And wrote her name by laying down.

A tale was told where she had died,
But silence sings what myths denied.
For Earth received what kings let go—
And Sita rose from below.



Susanta Pattnayak