Printer Friendly

Unquiet waters.

I take the shape of the receptacle that holds me I take the contours of the earthen pitcher tall, squat or lean I take the form of the bottle or the glass on the table I even take on the colours of the utensils in which I dwell.

I am the waters that you can see through I am the liquid that is almost not there I am the one in receptacles of various kinds, my shape not my own.

If you can but break the pitcher, just once and set me free I would flow into the stream gurgling, gurgling, I'll catch the sun in a jewelled glitter.

If only you'll break the pitcher, just this once I'll run over the smooth rocks, swiftly, swiftly, to join my mother, the river till we melt together into the ocean of our being.

Lakshmi Kannan

Dr. Lakshmi Kannan has published three volumes of her poems in English. She lives in India and also writes fiction in Tamil under the pen-name of 'Kaaveri'.
COPYRIGHT 1997 Contemporary Review Company Ltd.
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 1997 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

Article Details
Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback
Author:Kannan, Lakshmi
Publication:Contemporary Review
Date:Feb 1, 1997
Words:171
Previous Article:A Polish family in music.
Next Article:All Must Have Prizes.
Topics:


Related Articles
Page.
Hell & back.
Reading David Ferry's poems.
The runners at San Benedetto. (New poems).
Edna St. Vincent Millay. (A new poem).
What You Hear in the Dark.
What You Hear in the Dark.

Terms of use | Privacy policy | Copyright © 2019 Farlex, Inc. | Feedback | For webmasters