Terrains long dawdled on —
Long abandoned —
Among clammy and breeze-spiralling clusters of
Alien foliage —the Venue—
Dreaded and hidden in a moonless precinct,
Waking thoughts and compassion of domestic
Instruments and feeble-minded reptiles.
The Venue —gathering maisonettes of our sires —
The stonebox of jewellery of costly counsels,
Kernel eyes etched into its moss-ridden walls.
Bamboos tall with gaunt-green stems bow in
Honour of the departed skies.
Reverence of python-coldness from ancestral bow
And consolidated propitiations construct fragile and aging
Symbols,
Resurrecting justice and primitive values.