Sushant Thapa
There is a part of beauty
Which shines like the steel,
Only the light ought not to be disturbed by the touch.
There is always next high aesthetics of beauty
Which burns the heart like consummating fire.
Heated and thumping is the engine of meaning;
Making a home when the winter of survival arrives.
Life is but a window seat;
Waiting to open the shafts of light.
In togetherness still the “gyre waits to perne.”
What the poet saw is viewed again
With a greater intensity than the common good;
We only have this world to fit in a mirror,
To cast exactly how we replicate.
A beautiful mind is but a ripple of waves.
The flow comes from a rapid desire
To not be caged in temptations and naïve wanderings
Yet, the crumpled leaves speak of the footprints which
they carefully allowed to be trampled on themselves.
Waking seasons kiss the moonlight like daises
Rising from the soil.
That rising is a heart of a reminder;
A reminder to slowly grow each day.
With each sleep grows the insatiability of a dream.
__________________________
gyre waits to perne: A reference from ‘Sailing to Byzantium’ by W.B Yeats
[Sushant Thapa is a Nepalese poet who holds a Master’s degree in English literature from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, India. He has published two books of poetry. His poems have been published in The Kathmandu Post, Trouvaille Review, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Harbinger Asylum, As It Ought to Be Magazine, Litehouse, My Republica, The Beatnik Cowboy, Dumpster Fire Press, and Impsipred among many.]