VATSALA RADHAKEESOON

I carry the auric red of the births and sacrifices

of my motherland;

My soul swirls in its soothing blue expanse

of faithfulness,

Yellow rays diffuse the patriotic blessings of a golden heart,

Amidst the wounds and bruises of the hectic mundane,

I’m always mesmerized by its meditative greenness;

My heartbeats immerse in the eternal love

that gradually confluences* with the circle of completeness.

 

*Author’s note: A break from the usual rules of grammar. Confluence is used as a verb in this context for poetic purpose only.