Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Sun, what it is…- poem by m k harikumar

Sun, it is a threshold.

It somehow poked its face up
Out of the thickets that got swollen
With the dead and decaying leaves
Of yesterday’s rains.

The moment it got surfaced,
it stood burning in full fire.
Still it had in it a few cares
That its wings might get
Shattered all over again
At the slanting surge
of fresher rains.

And piercing right on the day
The sun went on, wasting no time,
And did a course of acupuncture even.

See how longing this sun is
To be living and flourishing!

Though it managed to succeed
in proving its identity all by itself,
of course, being scared of modernism
And post modernism, sun got its life
Recorded by simply sending SMS
To some TV Reality Shows.

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