I Meandered Forlorn As A Veil

| by Sunalie Ratnayake

(October 13, 2012, Los Angeles - Sri Lanka Guardian)

I meandered forlorn as a veil,

that masked the top of a peak so dark,

entangled around her cone-like crown,

a secluded ivory vaporous puff,

beyond the savannah, amidst the shrubs,

hunting rapport, like one that’s lost,

a sheer floating “CLOUD”, for a moment in sought,

of a home, a lover – in a sudden mountain top…

Incessant was I – now been a “TRANQUIL WAVE”,

which troll up-and-down in a subtle game,

guiding the path, of the brook that surged,

filling the river, beneath the said mountain range,

as a wave, for a jiffy, I was leading the way,

yet, again been lost in a moment’s delay,

as I tumble to the sea, now crafting “WAYWARD WAVES”,

a rendezvous that kills the quietude once held,

ending my journey in the creek, on the bend,

as the river shall meet the mighty old sea,

I travel from serenity to boundless insecurity,

now a “WAVE” that’s lost in her destiny…

I gaze with poise at the village, in awe,

from up-above, in a world far away,

I’m the “MOON”, now showering my beams so dense;

settling white stained light, on canopies jade…

been supple to let my gleam pass through;

the vacuity beneath high leaves, offering shade…

I kiss barren fields, and the paddy patches lime,

bestowing my light – on the couple in delight;

making-love in the night, amidst my moonlight in sight…

in-between, I pamper a snoozing wild fowl;

rolling her eyes, which shine bright in my light…

then I shoot my beams, like grins of the night;

on the wattle-and-daub huts - of dwellers who fear no fright,

for ages or more, who’ve seen many a moon of mine…

finally I sprinkle my beams on the well;

flaking ‘despair’ from its water still, and unwell…

yet the ‘meadows’ or the ‘shadows’ of the ‘trees’ or the ‘sheds’,

or even the deep ‘zombie’-like terror of the ‘well’,

never seem to realize how their beauty is ablaze - in my presence how enriched would be their gaze,

the lovers too tangled in their knotted wild stance – a world of their own, where yearning prevails,

‘nonentity’ ; am I, to all who’s spirits I’ve raised - all through the night with my heavenly gaze,

hence it’s time for a hushed ‘cheerio’, I sense – as the “MOON”, I quietly change my guise…

Constant as the stars that gleam,

and sparkle like some radiant beads,

I gloss the brink of the thin green leaf;

as a “DEW” globule - about to kiss the fine field…

I absorb in the auburn soil in need;

of my fresh and soothing squelchy fluid,

I vanish once more, before the dawn may greet;

a novel day in the parish, with a sun so deep…

my passage has ended yet, once again,

as I bid sendoff, deprived of a single trace…

Finally a “CRICKET”, am I camouflaged,

on the chocolate branch;

dispersing from the Chokecherry stalk…

beneath the peak - shaped like an upturned cone;

the one I then stroked, as a solitary rain “CLOUD”,

while hunting for love, in a frosty woolen fold,

now committed to a branch, of the shade of ‘mold’,

no one may distinguish, between the tree and my role,

my ‘antennae’ do stroke, on the dull space that unfolds,

then do I flee, to yet another russet tree,

which looks quite the same, like the dreary old me,

‘chirping’ my nocturnal tunes - ‘dull’, yet with ‘glee’;

in the ears of a loner, it’s still a fair melody,

until the vibrant ‘chameleon’ may realize it’s me, lastly;

that ‘he’ had been waiting to ‘guzzle’ and flee,

ending my journey from another ‘guise’ in me,

once a ‘CLOUD’, a ‘WAVE’, then the ‘MOON’ that couldn’t be,

all that I wanted, even less than I could be,

I still tried as a ‘DEW’ drop, and a ‘CRICKET’, to lead me,

to the realm I desired – ‘forever’, I thought it would be,

but soon realized, this was all ‘malarkey’,

‘epitaphs’ made no meaning, where ‘uncertainty’ was free…

a journey continues, in sundry shapes - many profiles,

until a platform may transpire, that could bring true ‘liberty’…

This poem is about the journey filled with uncertainty - the life’s journey of a human being, who seeks comfort at various resting places, merely assuming that the paths crossed are true resting places that may bring ultimate peace or contentment.

As the travels continue, (he or) she changes (his or) her ‘form’, or ‘guise’; initially from that of a “CLOUD”, to a “WAVE”, to the “MOON”, to a “DEW” drop, and finally, to a “CRICKET” (the insect).

Yet, soon realizing none of the paths crossed are permanent, or that none of the forms or guises lasted long enough to gain contentment, hence, unable to settle-down in either of the places been available as destinations are reached one by one, the ‘endless journey’ of the ‘individual’, or the ‘life’ continues.

The comfort, or the serenity been sought, never seem to be there. Even if it seemed or felt like ‘home’ at certain moments in time, that ‘perpetuity’ appears to vanish without mere warning.

In most instances, the various entities been served throughout the journey, does not even realize it’s worth, or in the least, that a benefit had been bestowed upon such entities.

Those who believe in ‘rebirth’ may also interpret the concealed, unfathomable meaning behind this piece of rhyme, as that of a person’s journey from one life to another, seeking ‘gratification’ – the perpetual travels in “Samsara”, in search of a precise resting place, only to realize, all places and spaces are temporary refuges.

Moreover, it indicates the ‘temporary-nature’ of various given moments in one life, or the ‘bareness’ in voyages / crossings of a series of lives linked with one another.

Sunalie Ratnayake is a Sri Lankan Journalist based in USA.  She could be reached at :-

sunalie.secretandbeyond@yahoo.com / sue@srilankaguardian.org