By
Ananya S Guha
Absence
Mother, pool of life
awaken in ripples
arcane past
hollow beds of rice
abyss- ages
you left, standing on a precipice
gods and goddesses standing
in those crevices
of a room;
waft of incense, flowers scattered
I prayed and ate left over offerings
procrastinations
salutations
I sang your chants
you listened to my rants,
of a godless universe.
Believe me, I pray
even today.
Pray to get you back
and see your thin shadow
in God’s presence.
Your absence.
My presence.
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