It was not force but an irresistible coax;
A gentle divine nudge that urged me to explore
A world bright and rainbowed
From the warm buoyant twilight world of my mother’s womb.
I know not whence.
Mayhap a deep primal instinct or of memories ere;
Or perhaps faint nostalgia of angelic faces and golden cities.
I cried in condolence of paradise lost.
Conceived with love yet born in sin;
Cared for with wisdom but life perceived in naivety.
The harsh verisimilitude of life was just taken in jest.
Death is just a hypothesis.
Spring leads to autumn and life is tepid yet vibrant.
Mortality is discovered in its bitter-sweetness.
Memories of golden cities during the egress regained.
And the coming of winter is calmly awaited.
Immanuel Zarzosang Varte
25th September 2014, Imphal
A world bright and rainbowed
From the warm buoyant twilight world of my mother’s womb.
I know not whence.
Mayhap a deep primal instinct or of memories ere;
Or perhaps faint nostalgia of angelic faces and golden cities.
I cried in condolence of paradise lost.
Conceived with love yet born in sin;
Cared for with wisdom but life perceived in naivety.
The harsh verisimilitude of life was just taken in jest.
Death is just a hypothesis.
Spring leads to autumn and life is tepid yet vibrant.
Mortality is discovered in its bitter-sweetness.
Memories of golden cities during the egress regained.
And the coming of winter is calmly awaited.
Immanuel Zarzosang Varte
25th September 2014, Imphal
