mandag 19. november 2012

INDIA

 
Fire små dikt. Er det nok ?
Neppe. Livet jeg lærte å kjenne lar seg ikke lett
sammenfatte. Jeg prøver likevel. 

                      

Enkelt og greit






En svart paraply              
bestandig for hånd          
og dagen blir levelig       
under Indias himmel                                  Fra Gandhis tid 
                                                                  
                                                                   Gå med klær uten søm      
                                                                   omspunnet liv                   
                                                                   den historiske vev             
                                                                   viklet om kropp eller hode
                                                                   svøp av bomull og silke    


                                                                                                         
                                    Nå eller aldri
                                 
                                     Turban på hodet                       
                                     tålmod på huk                          
                                     sammenfoldet kropp                
                                     armene i kors                           
                                                                                       
                                     Brystkasse mot lår                   
                                     lår mot legger                          
                                     helene sunket i støvet              
                                                                                      
                                     Indisk tilværelse                       
                                     livet i seg selv                          
                                     venter bare                               
                                                                                      
                                     Kanskje kommer buss              
                                     eller begynner evigheten her?         

                                                                  

                                       Skjønnhetssyn
                                      
                                      
                                       Morbærtreet ser                             
                                       larvens innviklede tilværelse           
                                       fly yndefullt ut                               
                                       fra pupper på gren                        
                                       i  tråd med sitt livs forvandling    
                                                                                              
                                       Ser kvinnekropper omgi seg          
                                       og sine pupper                                
                                       med samme tråd                             
                                                                                              
                                       Silkemykt flagrende                       
                                       sarier under solen                          
                            

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