"Perhaps" by Aparna Sanyal

Perhaps

Aparna Sanyal 

Perhaps,

"Peace" Ink on Paper
J. Artemus Gordon

there is a book

by a fireside 

on a rug of tufted joy,

at the end of a long day. 

Shall we make our way there?  

Through a spiraling

continuum--

once our lives have unspooled,

and insect-like, we have

scrabbled through the rims of

endless pine cones,

dreamt arachnid dreams

of flies, spit-cocoons and

weaves.

Once we've opened too many holy 

books with gun shapes 

cut inside,

drunk too much merry wine,

foul scotch and swilled 

bitter pills,

will you join me at 

this fireside? 

We can open the first page together. 

Perhaps, 

something that isn't 

jaded, cloyed, tainted

will draw us to its core.

And with your hand in mine,

leaning back against 

your absorbing shoulder, 

perhaps

we can read again? 

Poet’s Notes:  This poem came to me at the end of a particularly stark day. Watching radical religious fundamentalists create yet another fight, seeing the downward spiral of economic and social conditions in my beloved country, and then seeing tear-drenched, hopeful faces at another candle-lit vigil, I was struck by how varied a country we are, and how we’ve existed for eons seemingly teetering at the edge of devastation, but somehow redeeming ourselves. Perhaps, all we want, all we dream of, beyond the divisions, beyond the hate, is a simple, sweet, honest ending to our mortal tales? 

Editor’s Note:  What a lovely overriding metaphor and hopeful sentiment so beautifully expressed!  The world is so divided.  That would be fine, perhaps even beneficial, if all sides respected each other, but sadly they do not.  Perhaps this poem will at least change a few hearts and minds.  In any case, it is my honor to publish it.