The mountain that remains when the universe is destroyed
is not big and is not small.
Big and small are
comparative categories, and to what
could the mountain that remains when the universe is destroyed
be compared?
Consciousness observes and is appeased.
The soul scrambles across the screes.
The soul,
like the square root of minus 1,
is an impossibility that has its uses.
Source: Poetry (February 2012).
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This poem originally appeared in the February 2012 issue of Poetry magazine
Vijay Seshadri is the author of Wild Kingdom (1996), The Long Meadow (2004) — both published by Graywolf Press — and The Disappearances (HarperCollins India, 2007).
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