Poetry in a Global Box: Republic of India

Anuradha Vijayakrishnan

Suicide Note

To the frog at my doorstep that sang all night

To the cicadas that held unbroken vigil and would not sleep at dawn

To the rain clouds that held back till they burst

To gardens of wild jasmine that bloomed early this year

To glow worms that gave me fire for as long

as it was needed

To the drenched clumps of grass that smell of moth wings

and butterfly love

To the golden deer that lingered just beyond

my window

To the white curtains that danced for my pleasure

To the leftover noisiness of this marvellous day

To the shining lights of the neighbours and their last

ashen cigarettes

To broken glass trails that will show the way to strangers

To the quiet beating of my amazing heart

To my shaking hands

To blue ink and black and bruises that may or may not heal

To rivers that will swell and continents that will shift

To summers and monsoons and climactic

thunderbolts that will strike at will

To cicadas that live for a day and to the frog at my doorstep

that sleeps now exhausted

© by Anuradha Vijayakrishnan