By: Debasis Tripathy
I wonder generally where my heart lies,
Not sure why this feeling never dies.
But when I enquire others about this confusion,
They advise me to stop the inquisition.
My instinct, in its own strange ways,
Struggles to solve the dragon-like riddle.
Also, my unfamiliar brain I fiddle,
Where? How? I ask,
Whether it’s within my reach?
Tongue dries, the strings break.
Will this be ever transparent, or always opaque?
I wonder if something’s wrong with me.
I assure wherever it lies,
Still within me, still it’s me.
I wander into a dizzy maze,
Just as an alternate phase
And to a thought, or God, even to sexuality,
Sometimes to triviality, back to reality.
These fellows appear cold, not warm.
Then all around me they swarm.
I hear the whir of sticky flies,
Sense a hive of bitter honey bees.
From my heart a sapling of courage sprouts,
From my sensitive mind, I clear all the doubts
And muster the familiar happy reassurance
And feel the joy of life in my feet.
I don’t care if something’s wrong with me,
Whatever I am, still it’s me.