I Will Rise This Time for Sure

I will rise this time for sure.

Those of you
who were vigilant so long,
could you ever call a tree a tree,
a river a river, a flower a flower,
a bird a bird, get wet in the rain and dew,
stand at some unfamiliar crossroad,
play with the sand,
spin a top, fly a kite?

You never opened your doors.
Instead you kept hanging
oil paintings on your walls,
reassuring yourselves
that this is morning, that is evening,
this is rain, that is winter,
this is a flower, that is a sapling of paddy,
this is a deer.
You kept chanting that
till it reached a crescendo.
In the process
the flesh fell off the limbs,
the body turned to bone
but the chanting about your wealth continued.

Mind you,
when I slept I did not really sleep.
I only dreamed for a while.
In the dream
I was some scrap-dealer\'s scales,
weighing only
oil paintings with broken frames.

I WILL RISE THIS TIME FOR SURE