WHERE THE DEAD SPEAK

a poem by Raghunandan Ram, India

Where The Dead Speak
The live are dead
And the dead are alive,
As the pained & pressed hard
Have nothing to say beyond heart,
When the dead & the gone
Came out of the graves,
And the frames fixed on the walls;
Are dismayed
At what the New men played.
They see all around and say:
‘What a trend you have followed?
Flowers & maids, cooks & meals,
People & relations, fields & farmers
What we see everywhere, are same.
Except the moods, faiths & loyalties--
Varied, variegated & volatile,
In all with tasteless tongues
And with faithless temples;
Allowing values & virtues
To be subdued by vices.
Our Hopes! Saviors of Generations!
Already suffered a lot
Now speak for better,
Proceed for Peace, Harmony & Justice
To repair lapses & losses
And to be called dead no more.

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