This is a follow up to my mythical figure assignment The Mystic of Mackinnon Road and here I had to be an object in the myth.
The Padre’s Shroud
beside my bold silk of silver finery
they kneel, murmur, plead, chant
bargaining with elaborate promises
hope drenched whispers, ituri
filters through to your kaburi
do you hear their prayer, i wonder
at the blush of dawn, life so still
i feel, a stirring beneath me
awaken my pir, my padre
upon tracks
devoured by rust
seasoned with dust
the early train nears. decelerates.
***
ituri – perfume
kaburi – grave
pir – holy man
***
Previous poetry workshop assignments are:
Do You Remember?
A Land, Broken
Rearranged
The Importance of Being an Object
Red Stilettos, and a Pair of Shoes
Wallowing
SONYA KASSAM 
Wonderful, Sonya. :)
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Thanks Ranu.
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This is great. A wake up call to those, who are given the role to wake us up.
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Interesting. Well put, thanks.
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this is beautiful
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Thanks so much
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Dear Sonya,
Take the silvery finery of the pir in your hand, and break with the enemy. Be the wo/man of God, and free yourself of devils.
This is a very inspiring poem. Thank you for it!
All good wishes,
robert
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Wonderful and very poetic, Robert.
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