Friday, April 22, 2011

Shimbeleth

The yellow Bulbul that'll never come back
the way it was this morning,
ballet-dancing among the gardens and kyaaris
sending the flowers and shrubs themselves in a joyous dance - but nothing that would catch the eye of Grandmaster Mithun.
Lush breeze adds to the happiness
and the entire flora dances in sync,
to same tune
of the ocean and mother Earth.

A cicada chirps on by,
his lament out there for a lover to pick;
in short quivering replies she replies back and now
the lonesome cicada slips into morning bliss.

The sparrow flits by
between the strikingly odd - like the few strands of hair on a bald man odd - branches,
and puff and swell in the chase and run game they play in the morning.
It is nice to see the sparrow return,
much like somebody's younger sister that I knew.
And so I also wish that the T-rex may return back b'coz tat would be fucken cool.

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