Genre Poetry. Page - 66
Strange Are The Cadres Of Being
Suddenly, a visage
With a hushed leap
Rushed past the mirror
Black and yellow stripes
Like waves strung together
Suddenly, the dressing table trembled
The clock’s golden reflection shuddered
The body – wrapped in fever – thawed out
In the microcosms of blood
In the self and attributes
Are uncanny secrets
In the sieves of faiths and doubts
Are a thousand cracks
Strange are the cadres of being
Just now, I was wide awake
Groaning in deep pain
Then, how did I drift off?
Just now, I was fast asleep
Then, how did the eyes open?
How did the quilt’s mound lift off?
I don’t know how
the joints dismantled
the mouth broadened back
the fangs crop up
the gaze emblazed
the toes curled back
the spine stretched out
the skin turned into hide
From where this bushy tail sprang up
In the caverns of being,
Where did I vanish, roaring?
I don’t know a thing!
Strange are the cadres of being.