“Everything,
&
its Opposite,
is true of India.”
colors so bold
and brash
please the eye
despite the clash
Then there is
that darkest side
slain daughters
burning brides
curry scents
draw the drool
flowery fragrances
from lotus pools
still,
other scents
fill the air
piss,
poverty,
death,
& despair?
honking horns
jar the brain
the piercing blare
of a freight train
then silence
but for the mind
slowing, calming
freed from grind
&
Infinite possibilities.
Tags: India, poem, poetry, senses, sights, smells, sounds, travel
By B Gourley in India, poem, Poetry on September 10, 2013.