to my grandmother

a seven string veena has slowly
grown in her body

time has chained sounds of existence
in sa-ri-ga-ma-pa-da-ni solfège
the samagana of a life is ready
to be played back

Vishnu will pluck the sensitive strings
with four arms, waving as plectrums
a conch, a mace, a lotus bud
and the wheel

tones rippling into infinity
until no strings attached


Verse Affire, The Ontario Poetry Society, 2010