The poems still flow
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Though somewhat out of the public eye, award-winning author Punyante Wijenaike has not given up on her writing. The keen writer’s eye observes with astute acuity, the events unfolding in society.Here is a selection of her recent poems which she shared with the Sunday Times.
AN APOLOGY TO A FALLEN TREE
Once you stood tall and proud
Your branches waving in the breeze.
I cut you down to size
Where you could not fall upon my roof.
Ivy crept up your reduced strength
And creepers formed a crown
Upon your shaven head where once
Your branches used to wave proudly
In the breeze.
Birds of many hues built their nests
Upon your head, hiding among leaves
Of creepers and ivy, while butterflies
Fluttered around you.
I thought you were more beautiful than
When you stood too tall with your own
Branches waving in the wind.
How was I to know your loneliness
Your lost pride-
Your need to stand tall
Without foreign invasion
Only with your own branches dancing proudly
In the wind?
Was that the reason your roots gave up
And died, withdrawing from mother earth
Making you suddenly crash down in anger
Not on my roof but on my garden?
I did not realize that you were unhappy
Without your own branches waving
Proudly in the wind…
A CITY WAKING UP…
Looking down from the window of my high rise
Apartment to watch a city waking up
To another day…
I note the sun takes nature’s way
To rise slowly to its summit
In the sky – while
Man is moving fast below
With blaring horns of cars
Buses and lorries-
All in a mighty hurry
Pushing to get past
Churning cement mixers,
And diggers breaking up the last hold
Of Mother Nature helpless under
Road reinforcements
Begun anew to further
Cover-up Nature’s remaining glory
So that man’s flags can fly-
Not over the green grass that was-
Under tall serene trees
Bending over rippling waters.
The songs of birds stifled
In their throats whilst
A city is moving, ever moving
To an unknown destiny.
A city on an island in the ocean,
Which was once known as
The pearl of the Indian Ocean.
Now stands shorn of its natural beauty
Aping a world gone mad
Aping other commercial countries
A mere drop
Lost in the Indian Ocean…..
POYA DAY
I kneel before an image
After laying a tray of fresh, fragrant flowers
At his feet.
I burn incense
Light oil lamps
In his honour
On a full moon day.
But when I look upon his face
So serene, so far away
In a blissful trance.
I begin to wonder
Whether this was what he wanted of me
This sacrifice of flowers,
This burning of lamps and incense
When he had shown the way to deliverance
Out of human travail?
Did he not instead, want me to struggle
Out of the constantly turning
Wheel of life
And seek my own salvation?
ALONE
Alone in the house I chose
To retire into the computer room
To dispel my loneliness.
By creating a poem
Or a story.
Writing gives a purpose,
A joy to my life.
Despite body pains
I get strength to create, to write.
I am released from suffering.
I hope that, one day, death comes in a similar way.
With purpose, and without fear
To continue my writing
Without feeling alone.
THE BIRTH OF THE GIRAYA
Once I was a full time writer
Fired by imagination and inspiration
But the one story that became famous
Was a household arecanut slicer
By the name of the GIRAYA
Which was used to make
The betel chew more spicy
In every Sri Lankan home.
It caught my eye lying among the many
Ancient ornaments in the majestic Colombo Museum.
It was in the shape of a woman with a dignified konde
Hands clasped in worship, while her legs were immodestly
Spread like shears to slice arecanut.
To add flavour to a chew of betel….
I returned home to put pen to paper
And that is how the GIRAYA was conceived and born.
Dr. Lester James PERIES turning it into a magnificent film
On the screen.
WHEN THE HEART TAKES OVER…
For the heart to take over-
Mind must be totally free from bondage.
Conditioned as a child and then a young adult
The MIND is restricted.
Tradition, society, religion and race-
Tells you what to do, say and believe…
Authority is never questioned.
You must not let anyone down.
Which includes your alma mater, your school.
Yet there comes a time
When the inner self, your heart
Speaks to you and makes you crave
To follow your own wishes.
It urges you to do what YOU want to do.
It prods you to become what YOU want to be.
The roots of your beliefs now turn away
From rules and restrictions.
If you let go of a life you have been conditioned
To lead by letting go old roots
New roots will replace them.
Witness then the real roots of your heart.
Listen to what they say and let go
The falsehoods you have been holding for so long.
When they fall to the ground, you are free
To follow your heart
Which is the core of YOU.
When it becomes one with the Mind…
Then you become YOU.