If I were to see who I am, would that be a solution?: A poem

I spun around like wisdom

finding focus in itself

as the leaves from the trees

kept falling to the floor, and I opened

and shut my door, like long before….

and once more, so I could silently never go!

In Mumbai, the past comes like a

confounding overwhelming summer, its heat

brings hot tears from old wounds.

But would I know, the suffering would

still be blowing like an undying wind, like a

 present participle not a present perfect, in new lands.

 I told some people, who cared to listen…

that I was a September-born, a Virgo, a virgin.

But could I have been November (a Sagittarius)?

I listened long back to the aromas of my sexuality

and then shut the door on it. The femination

of Virgo and the masculination of the Centaur,

locked into the manifest Androgyne, for a purpose!

I felt lost  in Mumbai with its chaotic streets

and overcrowded transport and the pollution, poverty

and crowds. But, somehow, there was my love, my life!

So sadly, that gift was taken away…

I came to Melbourne, to seek out

that precious love for myself. I thought my physical,

intellectual and emotional boundaries could be

made malleable to  my secret aspirations.

Did anyone care for my truths? Or would it be that everyone

seemed to only selfishly want all that much out of me!

So I was besieged by opportunists, when I only wanted love!

All those turning evenings, when none

espied my tears (or felt for them), nor did I want them to…

In my loneliness…in my lonely wisdom…

where many words came to me like flowers in

a sensed wilderness, through the stirrup of my awareness,

 but none of them would bear any  solutions that I could fancy!