Here’s an evocative poem by Lopamudra, celebrating the many layers of a woman.
Shining on, the incandescent flame of her body And being, resounds in scarlet dreams. Her shadow, a silhouetted canvas etched On the door from where she ascends, Burns slowly in the flame as she Waxes and wanes, melting with the flame. The lamp, a mirror to the moonlight, Crescent and dim, flickers and blazes In the folds of her lotus palms. The lamp is her uttered prayers, Her domestic plate, her rebellion and her clichés. The flame, a harvest of her love, growing The wild flower of her blood raging, She touches the red earth, smoldering In the smoke and flame, she rises Smooth, dark, numinous.
Note: An attempt at ekphrastic poem, while attempting to unravel the magic and mystery of a classic painting by Raja Ravi Verma, ‘The Lady with the Lamp’.
Picture design, Anumita Roy Different Truths