- Empty mirror -
by Prabir Gayen
On the open field with doors of
All around the root of silent tree archaic,
Empty mirror the leaves, bloom and burgeon.
The open sky the breast of unsaid arcanum,
Each moment is full of sinewy dream,
The cup of empty alchemy,
The wordless communion.
The trees harbouring nestling and birds
The wind blowing with loads of deflowered
Mirror the truth frozen with deep intimation.
A vain man am I to cultivate the realm of
I am the everest and the blade of grass
To nourish the dew drops that fall to reflex
The shadow of sublime self,
The sweet depth of aloneness.
The euphoria of intoxication with the whole of
The season of timeless fragrance,
Spells me out to deathless depth of myself.