You sing to the Gods

You sing to the Gods ode long poem

An ode to Bhimsen Joshi

You sing to the earth, it’s minerals,

it’s metals, it’s pure stones.

You sing to the earth, it’s sand,

the yellow sand, the red sand,

it’s rivers of sorrow, the waves,

the waves that no one understands.

You sing to the earth, it’s flowers,

their beauty and their tragic death.

You even sing to the plains.

You even sing to the fishes, the silly frogs,

the saintly mountains, to the worms

and their infinite urge.

You even sing to this salt of thirst,

to the poets who long to hold eternity

in the palm of their hands.

You sing to the rhythm of the earth,

it’s history of seasons, it’s dense, dense soul,

it’s immense affection for it’s children, it’s destiny.

You sing to the earth.

You sing to the sky, to it’s

great, great expanse.

You sing to the sky, to it’s blue pride,

it’s deep humility, to it’s thousand eyes

that watch over us, to it’s single secret.

You sing to the sky, to it’s sun,

its orange heart, it’s virility,

it’s rise, it’s fall.

You sing to the sky, to it’s moon

and to every lover who ever died alone.

You sing to the sky, to clouds black and white,

and to the rains, only the rains that wash away all our desires.

and you sing to the birds,

the nocturnal birds of the soul.

But above all,

but above all,

you sing to the Gods.

Your song never, never, never falls as a meek raindrop.

it erupts from your soul, always,

as a flower or a volcano, it erupts,

and it travels, cutting through mountains and hearts,

and it rises, entering the moon,

and it spreads, to every planet, swirling in their wombs,

till the whole universe is a child rocking to your song,

till the Gods themselves forget their roles and listen to you,

so that they could know about themselves.

Through what torturous path,

through what tunnels and swamps,

does one arrive at the songs of gods?

How deep should one dive

into the depths of darkness?

Among what dense forests,

one needs to get lost? And how often?

How does one arrive at the songs of Gods?

Who helps in these things?

What gentle wind filled your mouth

with songbirds?

What generous soldier lent you his sword

to fell the demons?

What night sky drowned you with stardust and angels?

We may never know the answers to such things.

We may swim in the depths of darkness

all our lives and never find the pearls.

We may lose our way in the forest,

again and again and never find our home.

And no night sky may ever drown us

with stardust nor angels.

But, through you,

we have known certain things.

The tragedy of flowers,

the rivers of sorrow,

the salt of thirst,

the nocturnal birds of the soul.

Through you, we have known that,

a frog is a bird, a fish is a worm,

a cloud is a woman is a grain of sand,

and all of earth and sky is a song eternal.

Through you, we have known God.

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Balaji Gopalan

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I owe all of my poetry to the influence of Pablo Neruda. Reading him 10 years ago on the beaches of Goa, gave me the permission to be who I am and write what I feel. My poetry has never been the same after that. All that I write is an offering to Neruda.
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3 Comments on "You sing to the Gods"

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Chandrama Deshmukh
Member

@HighOnPoems, is there any way we can send this to Bhimsen Joshi?
He must read it.

Jayshree Murali
Member

the last stanza says it all Balaji… what a metaphor… music the gateway to divinity !!

wpDiscuz

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