Idolmaker's Dream*

Idolmaker's dream*

Oft whence i think of Thee
As made out of clay,
Every Autumn,
Every Spring,
As come Thee,
In varied forms of Art,
As Thou come,
Painted forms,
From straw , sometimes,
Built bit by bit,

One day for thy idea,
Another week for saree,
Another month perhaps
For colored block prints,

And few more years
For thy structure raw,
From undefined shape
To something definite,
As artisan one works
To hold thy Infinite in finite,

i just look at Thee,
Art thou Poetry,

A few million months
can i spend doing nothing
Waiting for thy eyes
To come , arriving,
Bedazzled me
Wilt then perhaps find Thee
Proper,
Wilt me perhaps find the sky
And the Sea.

(*Note: based on a painting done by a student of mine, Anwesha Chowdhury Mitra)