out there somewhere is a river not yet named
a mountain slowly rising
no eyes upon it still, no sense knows of its being
a sand dune unseen simmering
deep in the green below
under the swaying blue
breathes a creature i don’t know
uncatalogued, not turned into a species
no not yet not yet
a river flows from your eyes
a mountain rises in your heart
sand shifts through your veins
something remains
never to be known
nor named
when i know do i really know
or lose you
when i name do i surely go
and erase you
indrani’s index
never liked writing essays in class, never wanted to get seriously into any kind of writing that the syllabus called for, never wished to max and score in language or literature. yet, strangely, i've always had a thing for writing. thanks to a space we have just begun to understand, rhea and i met. one fine day she said, indi di, let's write together. and here we are. thank you for coming to writersbrew, i hope you'll thoroughly enjoy what you find here. i run a writing company called writers block, you can get in touch with me at [email protected]
6 Comments
Lalita Arya
March 21, 2016 at 8:08 pmWah, wah, Indi. What beautiful words, what exquisite expression and what philosophy revealed in splendid poetic form.
:…under the swaying blue…” I like, I like. I was born near the ocean and can so relate to the feelings expressed here. thanks for giving my day such a profound start.
indrani robbins
March 21, 2016 at 11:29 pmhi lalita, 🙂 🙂 delighted you enjoyed the poem… yeah, it sort of came along. born by the ocean? how lovely. thank you for that lovely comment. glad day started on a happy feeling.
DurgaS
March 21, 2016 at 9:05 pmThoughtful words Indi. From a time when nature is just evolving to a person’s innermost feeling. Really, these changes keep taking place. And do we have to name each and every change? And define it, describe it, bind it within a framed structure? Let there be no boundries, let there be no restrictions, let it evolve and grow or change into whatever it wishes to. We can just feel it and not call it anything.
Loved the last four lines.
indrani robbins
March 21, 2016 at 11:27 pmhi durga, thank you… as you say, we are so driven to label everything… we think we understand things, we get it and yet i really wonder… so happy happy you liked last four lines.
rhea sinha
April 6, 2016 at 9:34 amit is interesting how each reader takes away a different feeling. Perhaps the true mark of poetry.. I sense a certain restlessness.. “something remains.. never to be known..nor named” beautiful indi di..
indrani robbins
April 6, 2016 at 11:30 amrestlessness, always in me… i think. good catch. we try to label name understand everything. but can we? do we really get it? and won’t somethings always be outside our grasp… isn’t it absolutely lovely and essential that it’s there? truly precious. thanks for your thoughtful note.