Dibyasree Nandy, an Indian, began writing in 2020, after completing M.Sc and M.Tech. She has authored six books and several of her works have appeared in anthologies and journals.
The glowing mien of the golden orb turns grim, hark!
Eternal life-giver; the azure, glittering river changes to indigo dark;
Lost is the desert, haywire is the sundial;
How shall the Aegean ships return to shore? Facing danger and trial?
Terrified are the soil-tillers;
Falling to their knees at the sight of the sickly ether, the millers;
Falcons dared not fly;
Hawks forgot to screech and cry.
Emperor in despair;
“O Lord Horus, have we sinned? Will you not listen to our prayer?”
Confused, all;
A curse? A plague? Sekhmet’s wrath? A forthcoming squall?
The circle of the Sol, veiled;
The brilliant beams jailed;
High Priests beseech, plead;
“Forgive us, O Great Amun-Re of Splendour!” Beneath the violet sky, insects of the night buzz amidst the grass blades and many a reed.
Entombment of Divine Beings within rock, stone;
Was it a crime… “Are we depriving you of your ephemeral throne?”
Come to the light;
The obscure, shadowy Aten bright.
“Must the Pantheon be re-arranged;
To remove the concealment of the hours of the cheery day, an incident most fearsome and strange?”
The title of the supreme monarch altered;
His ideals faltered;
Blazing flare’s offspring;
One god, one negotiator; the king, one key to existence with a closed ring.
The sphere, birth and death as one;
Monotheism emerged; the hidden sun;
An eclipse arrived and passed by, a transition mere;
A straight line transformed to a cycle, a loop; making both the nobility and common fold perspire.
As the morn appeared yet again;
With liquor, people rushed to the fane;
Lands arid shimmered with sand;
The stream of abundance blessed everybody with a sapphire tributary, a cerulean hand.
Poetry in this post: © Dibyasree Nandy
Published with the permission of Dibyasree Nandy