Sandhya Krishnakumar – Three Poems


Today I noticed the moss and grass
In spaces between the bricks
On the pavement,
Every slab outlined in green.
Here was a piece of life
That saw a wall of bricks
And thought – There must be a way out.
Perhaps that’s all we need to do,
Look for the crevices that let in the light
And grow towards it.

The Blue Veil

The indigo hour
When night is not night
And day is not day,
A deep, all-encompassing blue
Dotted with dark silhouettes
Of gabled houses,
Leafless trees,
Golden street-lights
And glimmering displays in the river.
An hour that floats
Between wakefulness and dream,
A pervading harmony
Blankets the sleeping earth.
A faint mist gathers –
Sighs from tender dreams;
This must be the hour
When fairies seek children
And poetry seeks men.


Outside the window,
The colours changed every minute.
First the dark grey clouds swallowed
The remaining bits of blue sky,
The river turned grey,
Everything was monochromatic,
Uniformly grey.
A little later, sunshine burst through the clouds,
The river turned an olive green
Wherever the sunbeams touched,
Like a field of alternating grey and green.
The grey diminished swiftly as the clouds moved away,
Leaving a wide expanse of olive green.
Into the scene came a black double-masted schooner,
Advancing slowly.
A gentle rain shower followed,
Momentarily blurring the view from the window.
Suddenly, an array of bright colours –
A rainbow on the river, a few feet away.
Who held the palette?
Who wielded the brush?
Who transformed the grey canvas
Into a vibrant work of art?


Author’s Statement on Beauty

A few days ago, I was returning from my morning walk, enjoying a spectacular sunrise on the river. It occurred to me then that particularly striking sunrises always had some clouds in the picture. It was the clouds that lit up for a brief moment, transformed from a dull grey into luminous shades of orange and gold that never failed to catch the eye. I suppose beauty stands out more when it is in contrast with something dark. We all have our inner demons. Perhaps beauty is in transforming them into something inspiring, even if only in brief flashes.


Sandhya Krishnakumar lives with her husband in Amsterdam. A teacher of French for many years, she currently spends her time reading, writing and gazing out of the window of their apartment on the river IJ, always on the lookout for beauty. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in the Ekphrastic Review and the 3 Elements Review. More at: