POETRY
Burn, Forever
Prose Poetry
She dawns with a teenager’s naïve orange blush. The saffron tint growing brighter as the sun’s bold gaze impudently undresses the sky into naked blue.
There’s a band along the horizon. Like a painter has stippled the colors, blending them in artlessly, unsure of which side to give preference to.
The steadily disappearing nights, and soft diffusing memories,
Or the strong new day intent upon winning everything over?
By evening time, the band is a more mature pink. She now knows what to demand of the approaching night, and she will not hold back.
Morning’s naivete is strengthened by the experience of the day that’s now past.
There’s a burning deep in her soul. A burning that never consumes its fuel, never runs out of oxygen.
It embers sometimes, when the world brings her to her knees, crushing wet her spirit. But then it simmers again, sparks eventually, and blazes up in roaring glory.
There’s no quenching it yet.
There’s certainly no quenching it forever.
Paroma Sen 2022
