THE TONES OF RAMANUJAN

The music of bansuri flutes
alights on me
needing a safe haven
from a string of poems
in your skinned words
opens by red spores
of Indian wild plants
near a butterfly net
of your delighted words
as tiny gulls pass on skies
by a charred world
near the sea
and you, A.K.Ramanujan
floating upon words
as tiny birds hear
in a tundra of echoes
by the combrinan shrubs
from the Ganges.