The invisible wind moves visibly
Through the tree like a shy bird
That wants to hide but cannot
The pair of mynahs fly away in
A flash of brown, white and yellow
Partly seen and partly remembered
The eyes follow them till they vanish
It is still misty and cloudy and the sun
Can hardly be seen though its light
Filters through and offers warmth
The body cannot work up enough of
It is now December with just the dew
It is music taking me through green fields
Tomorrow welcoming me on the horizon
The pastoral flute following like a butterfly
A calendar year may be coming to a close
Yet time flows without a pause or cause.
No comments:
Post a Comment