Unanswered questions

Red tears, hurting the earth
every day, spreading like rage
pages unread, buried with
raindrops, dewdrops
trying to heal the wounds.

Words wanting to conceal
failing into sophism
getting clouded, cluttered
in volumes of useless methods
to wipe the fears; to numb the queries
they question the color and the pain.

Far off, a shepherd
just left his flute on the field
that was singing of love,
now outdated, captured as painting
like a deadlock that’s adorning
the walls of several museums
obedient asylums
standing in tandem
without questions.

Out on the two-thousand-year old field
beyond words and methods
young clouds are breaking into waters
just born dawns, softening the earth
with dewdrops.

The painted shepherd looks at the herd
then, at the flute, he wants to come out
from the place of the dead, live and be heard.

Ceremonies prevent the event beyond doubt
starving words have to eat the truth
they are, as it were, famished;
in the middle of salty waters 
uninvited intruders
spreading like a red carpet
the ostentatious supper begins.

Only some buried questions
same hidden questions
unanswered, remain.

Ignoring the salient truth
is clouding the crown,
taking refuge in nature
seems to be the only option
questions harness
hiding, hanging, hurling, hissing, humming
everywhere in medias res
truth blooms outside though into fruition
inside is blind with darkness
a field tonsured
turning the flutist jobless
with questions unanswered.

© supratik 2020
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critique and comments welcome.
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