Poem – Turning Madness into Flowers

If my sorrow were deeper
I’d be, along with you, under

the ocean’s floor; 

but today I learn that the oil

that pools beneath the ocean floor

is essence

residue

remains

of all our

relations

all

our ancestors who have died and turned to oil

without our witness

eons ago.

We’ve always belonged to them.

Speaking for you, hanging, weeping, over the water’s edge

as well as for myself.

It is our grief

heavy, relentless,

trudging

us, however resistant,

to the decaying and rotten

bottom of things:

our grief bringing

us home. 

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About भण्डारी2013

Has a reflective and idealistic types of personality. Loves to participate in Social activities. Extremely loyal by nature. Laid back unless a strongly held value is threatened and a talented writer too.
This entry was posted in Alice Walker (9 February 1944 - / Eatonton Georgia) and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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