Ghazal for Inner Child
Poetry Debut on Substack
Dearest reader,
I am thrilled to share a poem with you today. I’ve written many essays about and around poetry but we have reached that level in our relationship where I offer you a full-fledged poem.
This poem was first published last year in Issue 9 of the warm and wonderful literary magazine, gulmohur quarterly
It was written in response to my friend Nishi’s prompt ‘Write a Note to you Inner Child’ in our writing group. One of the coolest facts about this poem is that it was composed in air! I was on a flight from Bengaluru to Pune when I wrote it.
It has only one tiny element of a ghazal. Rest of it is a lullaby and a reassurance. I am honoured to have
’s photographs to bookend the poem. Through her prolific writing, stunning photos, and guided walks, Priyanka has played a huge role in my reconnection with nature.Okay, enough preamble. Handing the poem to you. Read it aaram se. Meaning slowly.
Deep breaths,
Raju
Ghazal for Inner Child
Baby witch, baby fish, baby creator, you are my flower child
at work, on stage, daily at the writing desk, I need you, my flower child.
Starved of soothing sounds, you cried alone, screaming into silent rooms
Petals shut up, you drooped, you survived alone as sour child.
Everywhere a drought of meaning, a poem here and there, weak delight
You sat on a bulb of nectar but patiently waited for a sweet shower, child.
See, see where we have come, so far into the land of spinach and papaya
Parties of affection around pools of ink. Don’t you feel the power, child?
I know though, what is missing. I can't run away with begging bowls
when you need my faith hugs, my kind words the most at this hour, child.
I'll hold you gently, as we stem up through life, I'll be your moist soil.
Allow the breeze to move your body, feel your fragrance, my flower child.
What did this poem make you feel?
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And the two photos are absolutely lovely!
I am poetry-illiterate (alas) but this has such a lovely rhythm and cadence.