— Haris Adhikari
I don’t have a theory for it. It is just an analogy
of a huge lake with ample inlets and outlets.
This lake is a canvas for clouds that drift away
slowly, like the fallen leaves. It’s also when
an anonymous lady secretly leaves an infant
on a pavement and disappears from sight. I don’t
know who this lady is. She could be anyone.
And she is gone, leaving the infant…
wrapped warmly in some clothes…
and the crying baby is picked up by a kind couple…
This is easy and hard; two in one scheme.
I don’t have a theory for it. It is just an analogy
with the lake where the boy stares
at his still reflection
and gains tremendous strength…
perhaps,
it is the communion with the deep
translucence— beneath the floating leaves, perhaps
it is the stone he hurls into the lake
to distort its trancelike quality
as ripples lap… rumpled reflections.
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(First appeared in Cuckoo)
