THE YOGi

a poem by P.K.N. Panicker, India

The enchanting environment
revels in beauty,
a sea of sweetness
dance of colours and ecstasies,
the sun shines with a smile,
nature organises pageants and festivals.

The Yogi,
with some invisible light in his veins,
his brain flooded
with some incomparable brilliance
rests like a rock, unmoved, unmovable.

Nothing distracts him,
even the breath of the woman,
the aroma of the jasmine flowers on her hair,
the womanish fragrance from her rosy lips
seeking to seduce
or the loose end of her sari
flirting with his skin.

The vibrations of his mind could be felt
as that of the song the solitary bird sings
unconcerned of the voices
piercing through the whirlwind
bursting through the lush foliage of the trees,
the deafening noise of the pouring rain
and the crashing sounds
of the ruins in the making.

Only for that moment,
when his innermost thoughts
kindle the flame fuelled by all knowledge,
lit the light leading to the unknowable;
when he will receive the revelation
of all truths permanent,
he waits.

The Yogi
begins his unlimited telecast
on the eternal truth
that no truth is true enough
to be permanent.

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