The Wisdom...

Forest neither does descend nor does spread
but arises as knowledge.

Sea neither does detrain nor does advance.
But I myself am the sea…

If the winged lightning loves the sand,
it neither does approach nor does return.
But the Sun grows 'We' the roots…

And later,
Fingers transform to giant trees,
Animals wake up on the palms,
Streams surge from belly to eyes,
A landslide journeys from fingernails to the moonlight..

In the nights filled with cricket;s moan,
the branches begin to whisper..

Tiny mountains sweat their wings,
Lakes return the babies…
Wildfire begs for the last breath.

Rain, roots itself in rainbows, to flood..
Thus flowers become birds,
birds to stars,
and stars recur to love and flowers…
Epigraphs grow into ramparts,

A being with two hands and legs,
drinks to shrivel the path..

A symphony of footsteps,
commence to weave thongs..

On the groans of the forehead,
a street germinates…
Doors wear garments of clops,
Thumps fructify as trees, in memories..
Hands deserted by animals,
fall ease unto me..
Closed eyes decipher flood in stones..

Thus, women sprout again as leaves,
Babies retreat to the rains….

Forest, from ages, is wisdom..
Just like the sea...