POETRY | MYSTICAL EXPERIENCES | LIFE LESSONS
A Swirling Smokeless Green Smog
Prose Poetry
Prose of the Interpretation:
I
Dusk was yet to leave. An alluring dawn had already arrived. An orb of swirling smokeless green smog wandered in a sprawling terrace. Its lone grace, a stairway. Solitude in all corners. Ravenous spaces from start to end. No heavenly-blue morning glories or potted plants as it should be, in such an expanse — A charm lost within? A single adjoining black plum tree, a half-share, its oblong leaves and plump plums touching the parapet. Eager to be a part of what’s not there!
II
Whispers echo each other on the muted mortar steps and tough handrails. Cold walls wonder, who would like this vastness enough to walk in. Harpstrings of a fading morning moon are curious too!
III
They are now forced to foresee a stroll of polished dark robes, waves of soft and lush black curls, splotched purplish ink in circles, pounded plum skin, dead seeds with fleshy fruits, like blood’s sucked out!
IV
Foreseeing is a concern too. Isn’t it? Meddles with your mind!
Interpretation of the Prose:
