Echoes of Spring by Jahnavi Gogoi

Echoes of spring

By Jahnavi Gogoi

 

Monsoon is the season of Jamun and paper boats

my umbrella becomes a Coracle, then a light saber

wrapped in my mother’s saree, I am a queen

  

among the Madagascar periwinkle dancing in abandon

lightning streaks maliciously, thunder bellows but

the storm cannot touch me.

 

Father tells me stories about celestial bodies and seers

his hand cool on my forehead as I move from dream to dream

looking for Mimosas that fold up their leaves.

 

Memories pressed between pages, I gather snapdragons

and sing my songs to the giant Sal which whispers back

Its sagacious counsel.

 

 A particle moving in a sunbeam, I flit like a Sunbird

i marvel at sea glass, how debris becomes treasure

weathered by motion.

 

Ma’s voice is like a call to prayer, an aria beckoning me home

starlings write messages across a coral sky

but I have nowhere to return.

 

The old house swallowed up by time echoes in my hollow core

gone in a blink that tender spring like a

chimerical fable.

 

Caught between the golden foliage of a Laburnum in full bloom

now I feel like a rubber swing in a mossy backyard

mourning a Farasha.

 

 

Glossary:

 

Farasha: Butterfly in Arabic language.

Coracle: A small, round lightweight boat.

 

Jahnavi Gogoi is a poet who grew up amidst insurgency in Assam, India and lived to tell the tale. She is a writer of children’s fiction and a mother to an assertive seven-year-old daughter. Her debut book of poetry ‘Things I told myself’ can be found on Amazon. Jahnavi now resides in Canada with her family in the picturesque town of Ajax. Her poetry has been published in Inssaei International journal, Academy of the Heart And Mind, Spillwords, Soul Connection by Guwahati Grand Poetry Festival, Mystic Aura magazine, Indian Periodical. She also has words in G plus, The Beacon webzine and others.

 

 

 Pic: pexels