Having a career in music, which led to doing a series of columns headed SO IT GO at Sunday Stabroek, material comes from one kind of another to me in various ays. Someone unknown to me, Haimnauth Ramkirath, recently sent me online information about a collection of poems he has written, and copyrighted, that will be out in a book soon.
The work is a collection by Haimnauth which explores his observations of the nature and connection of mankind with him and the material rivets about the poet’s engagement with nature that shines continually in his writings
He planted a Tree
The old man planted a tree in the park,
in the shade of a tall red oak.
When stormy winds shook hard,
sheltered within the portals of his heart. But the old man died before the tree grew still.
He took little rest under his shadow. He never saw the nest that the robin made,
or when falling its leaves from flaming yellow and crimson red. He didn’t see a tiger moth butterfly on its leaf on fire, nor squirrels mounting its trunk in blithe delight.
Never witness his impassive strength — firm in the fiery blast of the wrath of the sun, uninhibited by storms and lightning strikes. But the old man knew these things all over. He would never see the tree still and strong.
That’s why he planted it with song
that his spirit may live
in what is sucked into the earth,
and for you and me and the world to see — the beauty of life in a tree.
Sunset
I watched the sun slowly sink
to the deep sea bosom.
Dimming lamp,
but a thousand delights
compressed time,
and in a span of seconds—
fire from the firmament.
A gift that separates—
a bed of crimson red
the sun makes for rest.
The embrace, the dance of color and light, like the distant glare of a forest on fire.
Autumn leaves spread in the air,
infinite shades transient and bright
streaming through scattered fabrics of clouds.
Forced to stare long
until that lamp was gone.
Capturing ten thousand shades of fading light. A deep reflective silence fell on the land.
Then—
the majestic curtain suddenly closed:
darkness swallows all traces of his eternal enemy.
The Lotus Rises
Deep roots in a muddy, slimy pool,
but like the elephant, rigid and strong, the lotus hears the call of the dawn.
Rising from languid and murky depths,
and like the pure waters of a flowing spring, bursting into fragrant flowers
above the troubled surface of a tired pit.
Not caught by mud, lifts his face
like sprays of a waterfall.
When a light breeze excites the silence,
he dances with unfair brilliance—
greeting to the vehicle mounting the horizon. Water droplets slide unreasonably on its leaf, such as one standing on the edge of a cliff,
like these fragile threads of our breath.
His story, endless odyssey.
The dark depths of despair to light.
Breaking the sleepy waters of hateful desires, waking up with inspired soul fire — the human journey in a captured flower.
Closes petals at night and sinks under,
and when the night dies in the soft embrace of day, a quiet miracle on the pool displays.
In the stillness of deep awakening chants, rising beautifully with defiant flowers, as the human heart opens and unfolds in beautiful colors – a thousand-petal lotus.
I sent the following note to Haimnauth:
HAIMNAUTH
Your powerful connection with nature and your sustenance comes from nature constantly and unabashedly through these poems. The images are always very clear and persuasive, and I am impressed that you do not allow diversions to disrupt your overall message with its obvious, never fail, thrust. You have clearly found a path that routinely brings these positive messages; nothing sounds forced or inconsistent. Belief in the message, I would say, is the singular feature you convey over and over again … no quibbling, and the examples you choose are persuasive…
DAVE MARTINS
I don’t know how soon the book will be out, but it is a tremendous piece of work, an extensive exploration, and I highly recommend it. So it’s definitely going.