I Had Seen The Ultimate Poetry
With grandpa
while working in the fields
by a forest along the bank of a
rain-wet river;
while the cattle grazed in the meadow,
I, touching the gooseberry bushes, and
sitting under the shade of the
acacia;
once became high while eating up
pickle and roti, and
while drinking water from the
low lying tap
I saw poetry
at the fringe, in her real image
The beginning was not known then
not even now -
but the end could be seen
with the naked eye;
in all starkness of the reality
from the head to the toe
The fusion of life and death was
not a smaller intoxication;
I'd learned silence from
grandpa's words, and
from the poeticized creation of god,
the echoes of the songs of the sky
that were coming out from deep of the earth!
Aristotle and Neruda still had
not awakened in me;
only there was grandpa
and only was I -
There were terrains of land, and
there were breeze and clouds
And was a sudden shower of rains,
and in the midst of all these
there was a random loneliness
that since then
hanging around in the same pose -
the pose that
it'd struck in the frame of the universe.
Just our perspectives have changed
grandpa has slept forever, and,
I while away from my
ancestors' fading graveyard;
hold the hand of my grandson, and
run in a nearby park-
taking small footsteps like him
While poetry sings ceaselessly
swaying in a swing
in a play land!
[...] Read more
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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