dreams resplendent with green
i walk up the trees reaching the sky
i didn’t find any gashes or bleeding wounds
on its back
nobody has yet stabbed it
birds swim through an easy breast stroke
and flowers bloom as usual after the day closes its shutters
a voice of the baul plays on the strings
of a handloom river
night comes reverently
unleashing its warmth
i sleep unlikely
in the crypt and cradle of your stars.
Poem and Drawing on a hand made paper by Amitabh Mitra
Baul - A traditional folk singer of Bengal
Amitabh's facile pen and artful brush n color transported me to a cozy place in Bengal, with its tree-lined roads, ponds, coconut trees, punctuated with pucca (brick and concrete) buildings and thatched roofs...Amitabh is a poet-painter par excellence!
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