This flowering is really painful.
Philosophically she bares herself
And puts on a cover, transparent.
I feel like closing my eyes at ‘hers’.
The mood she made in me was mild
Like gold and its lenient luxuries.
Why is there no leaf or a little shade
To be put on her here and there?
I feel shy seeing her clad only in gold.
What else has she ever had to bare?
But this, ‘that I have nothing to hide’
What is bare, you know, is beautiful.
The Vis(hu) ion of this tree makes all eyes glow;
and all the ones who try to frame her ‘Yellow’,
blissfully happen to ask, out of pure innocence;
What, y’know, what’s the colour of affluence?
She sheds it like still-minted coins of all dimensions.
*Vishu is a festival of the Hindus, and during this period a tree with yellow followers blooms herself all over leaving no leaves on her but only flowers. This flower is a sign of wealth and prosperity for the upcoming year. This tree paints all streets yellow and makes the whole state go gold.
A. Jayaprakash Jayaprakash Panicker
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-colour-of-affluence/
