A riposte to A.E.

Housman’s Smooth Between Sea and Land

Ship of Ages

Borne by the rampant wave,

From cradle to the grave,
Why must I write or say
Anything of yesterday?

I need to leave my rhyme

In trust for the next lifetime;
Etched where it’ll surely hold
Through the ages of my soul.

But on the dreaming hills –

Baptised and newly willed –
What parables will you preach?
What ramparts shall I breach?

Which pagan rite retell

Reinvent heaven or hell…
Then with a smile deny
Each and every well-worn lie.

Then croons an old refrain

To crescendo in my brain
As horizons rise and fall
To heartbeats of recall.

What do I tell you when

I echolocate you again?
Which life should I discuss
When all things are in flux?

Why share of where we went?

Or detours we sore repent
O’er trackless wastes of night
Or peaks of feigned delight?

What heart can vie with mine,

Adept at conquering time—
Death’s just another door
That takes me to you once more.

Stardust gleams at our feet

The cosmos our grand retreat
Humming the old refrain
Ageless we meet again.

~*~

Subroto Mukerji