1. After chaos

Gaia lies wide awake

Her head upon the brown, bare rocks-

the sad Ouria

devoid of graceful nymphs.

Her thoughts amble

between the starry sky

and the hopelessness

of the deep blue,

lost in the blemished count

of her off spring

brought forth by will

or sin

The old woman sits on a mat

woven by her nimble fingers

when the olive tree

still handed out fruits

She watches the dark shadow

gather in strength,

scoop up the burning

desert sand

Spread it with black hands

upon the adamantine sky

She watches with vision

beyond her hundred years-

a feminine hand

snatch up a great sickle

from the flying sand..

Gaia spreads her wet locks

drenched with blood

and tears of her progeny,

to dry in the golden flames

while the infant gods

continued to war among themselves

upon her succulent breasts

The old woman watches

as her daughters

dig up the tapioca

for the evening spread,

their green hands

watering the newly-planted ones

and Gaia drinks thirstily

A few pomegranate seeds

escape from the hunger reinforced jaws

onto the ground,

her soul trembles with age

while a druid inside the red seeds

bursts into an ancient pagan song

Zeus smiles

as benevolently as ever

at the sensuous forms

cloistered in the courtyard,

in the sandstorm- lashed cavities

of weary, fertile wombs

Gaia and the old woman too smile

as a black axe cloud engulfs the sun

2. When time walked away

A cold silence reigns over the house

Water trickles down a roof slope

No fingers play with the shattering drops

A lifeless climber sprawls at its own feet

like dust settling into old picture frames

Little bells remain suspended in silent harmony

no longer nudged to pass on fervent prayers

The room remembers its lone prisoner

-a voice that shrunk into a face on its wall

Faded linen shreds itself on mahogany

The clock has washed its hands

off days and nights

Windows stare through cracks in their frosted glass

no bits of sky left in their memories

Someone would have been moved to write a poem

by these absences once

had he too not been removed from the pages

by passing time

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Reena Prasad is a poet from India, now based in Sharjah. She has several poems in English anthology collections published by  Xpress Publications and Poets Corner, in  eight anthologies by Barry Mowles and eight of Brian Wrixon’s anthologies, in online jounals: Carty’s Poetry Journal, Indian Ruminations, Indian Review, and in online magazines such as Youth Ki Awaaz. Angle Journal carries 2 of her poems in the Spring/Summer issue. Her poems have found place among the winning entries in contests by Writer’s Cafe, Ekphrasis India and Poets Corner. Forthcoming are some poems in the Nomadic Voices Magazine and First Literary Review-East.