In Lieu of Autumn

Poetry

A poem by Madhuri.

Osho talking in discourse

For 26 years there was no Autumn
India moves from rains to winter
with just a lucent gap
– blue-skied, cleansed, a little cooler –
and then the sudden grip of winter’s snap –

But there were riches instead a-plenty
velvet robes, the loose langouring
of love’s entangling –
There was the man of light who sat
in satin robes with sails upon his shoulders
and the rolled brimming
of a soft-knit chenille hat –
There was the man of light who spoke
with waving gestures, the boom of sibilance
There was a man of light who sat

And gathered us all in to him
and we, like ripening grain
sat –
as our attention crawled like beetles
upon our own stalks inside
or drew back to gape at the
inner sky
And our hearts partook of
honeyed brews

Autumn – we feast
on being.

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