Wine
/Neither we are born
nor do we perish into oblivion.
As a gardener
of the vineyard boundless, which flourish as our children,
we come here to nurture
the flow of the grapevine
tender,
to guide and support
the sudden twists and adorable twirls
of the wayward creepers
that softly turn from scarlet to green.
Time blooms from budding moments to hours,
down the fingers emptiness drips,
days flow out of grip.
The grapevines bear sun's glaze
in its proud fruitfulness
and glow with the moist haze of the sliding days-
shimmering with the touch of purposeless amaze.
Grapes like age mature
from tender to pure,
glowing in careless glimmer,-
prepared to be burst, thrashed, smashed,
then its flowing taste
to be collected, strained
and matured
until treasured as wine
in the dark cask of time,
developing a taste for
absolute pleasure, sublime.
By Kakoli Ghosh
From: India
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