Sprawling like wild imagination in empty spaces,
Across the latitudes of fertile ground where no shadow chases,
Unfolds a route in the splendour of obsidian silk,
Smooth and cool wrapping the soul like that last empress’s ilk,
Seated on a throne of woven jacquard damask,
Threads of prosperity sinuously enticing a much conjured task,
Beckoning the world of another side to stoke its curiosity,
As odysseys of fleets sailed adventures in mariners’ alacrity,
Mountain passes of craggy rocks never intimidating,
Alien entities thronged after arduous journeys enterprising,
Drawn to gems so rare, spices so aromatic, tastes so enlivening,
Cha, Zen, Feng Shui, TaiChi, King Fu strewn like bright poppy intoxicating!
Dainty ivory gleaming visages with raven black hair,
Lithe and delicate bodies so agile yet striving to dare,
The Han dynasty spread its wings fanning foreign entrepreneurs,
Inviting many a businessman to invest in far Eastern splendour.
Like the Sun touching far flung lands with its brilliance,
Sprouted trades of varied dreams realising themselves in abundance,
It takes myriad sacrifices to execute a miracle,
What’s fair in love and war, in commerce success and debacle,
A cauldron brewed in the hemisphere of Mother Earth,
A melting pot where cultures boiled, a fondue to birth,
The west sun dazzled with saffron amber of the east,
Bone China decorated ostentatious banquets in every feast,
Cuisines wafted wisps of condiments of the Orient exotic,
Maidens and gentlemen draped themselves in attires chic,
Jade and ruby brooches adorned robes and many a breast,
While trades thrived with pride swelling in their chest
Now there are no such laborious travails neither surprises galore,
Click of a button global products appear effacing oriental yore,
Blood diamonds have never stopped stars from glittering,
Neither will posterity impede silk worms from metamorphosing,
Like moths to a flame that old Silk Road would ever lure,
The grass always greener on the other side for sure,
In interdependency every global war could be thwarted peacefully,
The comforting feel of silk carries its own perfume intrinsically,
Now aerial routes put up dreams in a cloud,
Touters holler endlessly in superlatives louder than loud,
Yet myrrh and Xiang spiral in a consortium’s web to linger,
Cookies crumble, porcelain breaks, while that old Silk Road remains a wonder.
Bio.
GEETHANJALI DILIP
Professor of French heading Zone Francofone, poet by passion, Geethanjali Dilip’s four published solo poetry books include, “Geethatmaa , Song of the Soul”, “ Hansa Geetham- Song of the Celestial Swan”, “ Poetry Voice- Geeth Dhvani” , and “Soul Riff - ATMATARANG” with good reviews.
Recipient of several prestigious awards for poetry, she curates Yercaud Poetry Festival, since 2018, strongly believing that poetry connects the world.