Border Crossing, Pooja Biswas

I set out on a pilgrimage

over the northern plains

     of ice-steeped grass

and stones round as knuckles,

breezes sharp as kite strings.

 

so far from the sea

     was I & yet

so near to the sky, the clouds

    hovering

like small parachutes,

      descending bodies

invisible in the glare. reduced

to threads, mere threads

     of light, oh sun. why

do you hide death.

 

birds solitary as footless

     minstrels, singing heat

down upon the curling curves

    of snow-dust, evaporating

as softly as love-sighs, spirit-whispers

      from pale mouths. the earth a

gently rolling corpse.

 

I left in order to put in order

     a great many things, wings,

notes left unwritten, unfurled. dangling

participles. shoes & the feet in them

          seemed ludicrous here,

raw-bone ache and callused blisters

making of the body a pulsing knot,

         centered on two points

                hot needles.

 

     & still the sun sketched

perfectly geometrical shapes.

the wind rolled back & took

the black shrubs with it, bent them until

they touched their sturdy heads

          to the soil.

 

the terrible tides

the perilous undertows of love

   their impossible depths

& the heart within them,

desperately toothless

   swallowing loss.