Tuesday, August 4, 2015

THE BIRD IN ME




The bird in me
glides freely-
with the wind
on flights of fantasy.
to the sandy beaches,
to the snow capped hills,
to the green glens and glades,
to the waterfall spills.
to the mysterious dense forests
not traversed by sunlight,
to the vast desert expanses
with no life in sight.
Soar up with the wind
to view the natural barriers
and the human boundaries
that the world divide.
Lifted up by the wind,
I view the tall structures
of human aspirations sky high:
achieved by the teaming millions
working relentlessly
Without respite.
I swoop down
to flit above the green fields,
the gurgling streams,
the humming mills.
Flit up to view the children
playing in the fields
to their sheer delight.
Touched by the raindrops
cool and clear,
I perch on a tree
with a village near.
I gaze at the puddle
on the ground,
I gaze at the cloud in the sky
with life giving rain abound:
I am amazed to see myself
in the puddle,
in the vapour,
in the rain cloud
the bird in me calls out to me aloud:
In fact, the bird in me are my thoughts
as transient as time
yet, eternal as the ether.



Life