Prayag Saikia

Like a sprout
new time appears
from the cocoon of a hibernating past.
...

In you eye
the azure of the sky - -

A tranquil transcendental feeling pervades.
...

Here I die
and
you bloom.
...

A tumult in me.

There will be
no more play with the mask.
...

Maybe you'll sink into oblivion,
and a shroud of mist may engulf your isle.

But
...

Clouds scud across the sky,
deserts will be drenched,
rain in torrents
is the probable reply.
...

In this
wounded
denuded
valley,
...

Plumb the depths of your mind,
you'll find him.

He's a pagan!
...

What to inscribe
on this pebble (?)

An epigram (!)
...

I can imagine no river
flowing round the brim of hell,
and any valley
dolorous forever.
...

With a static hub
even the spokes of time
cannot reminisce.
...

Not your travelling words
vanishing in the sky - -

Silence should not be wounded
...

From the star of Bethlehem
If we draw a line
We shall find
It doesn't end in pieta
...

God does speak sometimes
Not like the ‘elan vital'
But merely as a meek human - - -
...

Why do the roots, born in the sky
Thirst for the soil?

On moonlit nights
...

Along the path of time
Old and infirm,
I go seeking the shade of a peepul.
...

Why need the splendid orchids thrive on others?
Why can't the euphonic cuckoos set up nests on their own?

Don't bring up these issues
...

With the disappearance of the green and the yellow,
The fields, now, are friendlessly alone.
Down memory lane
The mates of the mind are bidden adieu.
...

(On a painting by Pranab Barua)

With the descent of clouds upon the foothills
The heart trickles
...

A flock of birds
Scan the earth from the sky
Searching for ailing dead victuals.
...