People of love and people of earth

Die, live in veil

For realities are distorted

in these disabled times.

A dawn that never came

For us to see

that we were brothers

Lost in rage

and insanity

And now walk without limbs.

As Jaffer sings

“A dawn will come

in my country

there will be peace

there will be love.”

“A dawn will come ,

In my country

when there will be

no         blood       shed ”

For, with every death

we confirm

that our blood is red.

and that,

this truth is sad.

So we choose

Ugliness

and lies that decompose.

They melt

in the same earth

in the same air

From dust to dust

From earth to earth.

We live, and die

And sing, and cry

The songs of love

For brothers we were

And brothers we shall be

Like a sufi kalam

We lose ourselves

Memories revolve in ecstasy

through the years

like white time.

 

As histories of sand

And histories of ink

eaten by moth

And other living things

Lay dead and decayed

Like stones

And stone dust.

 

From dust to dust

From earth to earth.

We live, and die

and sing, and cry

The songs of love

for brothers we were

And brothers we shall be.

Goirick Brahmachari lives in New Delhi, India. He hails from Silchar, Assam. His poems have appeared in North East Review, Nether, Pyrta Journal, Raedleaf Poetry, Coldnoon Quarterly and The Four Quarters Magazine.