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Poetry

What is it like, This entity called Death?

Like coming out to a garden
Of pure air
After fumbling around in a cave
Full of shadows?

A solitary holiday
In a tranquil sea-side
Recuperating from a long illness

Would it be that
Long forgotten
Milk-smelling warmth
At mother's breast
One would wish to snuggle up again

Or is it just
A mendicant's sleep
By a busy city street
At midday?

Malini Govinnage


Lent

Ash Wednesday has herald in the season of Lent,
To remind man of how his days should be spent
Dust we are and into dust must return some day
No not when that day will come our way.
Happenings round the world let us focus our attention now
Countries fighting, floods, earthquakes famines are with us somehow
Predictions in the Bible two thousand years ago
A warning, a reminder - Be ready for the future so.
To the Bible let's turn this season of Lent;
Reflect as Christians how are days should be spent.
The second coming of Christ is no far away
So let's prepare, prepare without delay.
Not as a babe would He come; but as the Head
In all glory as a King to judge the living and dead
Of His coming no one knows the day or the hour
Not even the angels: only the father who has great power.
So let us all take the Bible to our near
Go through the pages without any fear
Verify the Son of Man's coming from Heaven the hour
To take His chosen people with all His power.


A tribute

Blossomed red poppies
Dance upon their stalks
In the dazzling sunshine
The petals glisten and glisten
As dew weeps the tears over

It's time to pay tribute
To all those who sacrificed their lives .... in the battlefield
Time to remember so dearly .......
The ones who gave us a better tomorrow ......


Obsequies

By the casket stands
a stone figure
arms wrenched across its chest.
What does it think it guards?

Mourners come, kneel or bow
after their fashion and look around
for a principal more absent now
than heretofore.

A favourite scent is sprayed,
flowers put away, the casket closed.
The stone figure moves blind of face
we move around its wake.


Another departure

I sanitized everything -
withdrawal, dismissal, handshake,
like the buffalo in the picture
heavy and slow in a Asian field
wondering at the aero planes, the guns.

No matter for surprise, especially
not for me for this at least
I knew that I had not known
anybody like you, including yourself.

There will be nothing other than the same
slow puddling in uncertain ground,
reticent as the land, as always, as you. G. S.


Twin sufferers

"Patients and pupils are twin sufferers"

Sons of Hipocrates,
Disciples of Disapamok,
Daughters of Nightingale,
Form the noble professions of the world

Patients and the pupils
Clientele of the service
Expects them to discharge
Let them as they wish, charge

Sacred were the wishes of the saints
Promises of the above are quant
Trends of history that evolve
Centre round humanity and revolve

Unhealthy physicians that fall
Sick in the wildcat nature they call
Queues of patients that suffer
Mocked and teased by chaos that horror

Divine call for obligation,
Moral duty for dedication,
Innocent patients' expectation
Human rights are in violation

The latest malady of channelling
Sucks the blood of the worldling
Ironic it seems in any sense,
People made them with their pence

Tender minds of the innocent souls
Are poisoned by the tuition malls
The noble pedagogue of the morning sessions
Heartless blood-sucker in the evening mission

Profession of the divine call
Follow the medicos' sick note call
The system falls into total disarray
Visible Gods in trade-union foray!

Mission, vision, ruins, perils
"Limousine" is the "buzz word" that boils
It's disgrace for the sons of the soil
Are the poorest forever to toil?

Patients and the pupils are twin sufferers!

..................................

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