I heard it again tonight!
the sing-song tone of the rare visiting bird,
She perched upon my window-sill and sang me a song.
Though muffled, her song spoke of a universal urge.
I recognized her tune, though not soon,
But now I know, dear birdie, she sang of hope!
The clouds shattered open above her head,
But unperturbed she sang on..
Of hope against cloudy skies, for a dazzling gleam of sunshine!
My bare-feet grovel on the winding path.
Oh, but my journey is cut short by a blinding pain..
For I tread not on the frequented path,
I tread on through the thorny boulevard,
Reserved for people who dare to hope.
Once again, I stop dead in my tracks-
I stoop to run a finger over my scathed, scarred feet.
Warm blood oozes out of my numerous cuts,
Which my numbed fingers touch and come alive.
But be not so naïve to assume that thorns beneath my steps,
Are deterrant to my walk.
Soon it starts raining and I-
Raising my eyes to the sky, receive the kisses of the first few drops.
I feel your liquid healing touch, for it pours in plenty over me.
Your soothing adoration I washing my blood to oblivious rainwater...
For every whit of my sorrows, your love,
Like a deluge follows.
Rehearsing over the ages.
You give me strength to keep up,
On hope's pathway, even on scarred feet and numbed hands..
I know you've been here , my love
So I collect you from thorns and brambles
And I gather too, a piece of my heart.
Sitting on a pebbled beach, I watch-
Rain augment with sea, what it has too much of.
I wondered at the likeness of the picture of the shore,
To any defeated heart, being broken into smithereens once more,
Even when it pleads to be hurt no more!
But mingled with the pitter-patter,
The gurgling water of the sea,
Conjures up a distinct strain,
As if sung by a voice so familiar to me!
Many a lullaby, heard down the ages,
Have appealed to me even more,
When the cadence of your ardent voice
Sung soft in my ears encore!
You've sung to me, my love,
I deem it proof enough of your presence here too.
So I collect you from the surging waves,
And I gather too, a piece of my heart.
On my long return home, I sit-
Among the low branches of a hoar tree...
Eyelids droop shut,-
And I feel two loving arms envelope me!!
I dare not open my eyes in fear of losing what I feel,
The scent of sodden earth and moss overpower my senses...
Cradled in your surreal arms, while I sit-
Every inch of hopelessness shudders and dies.
I smile, for you were here my love.
So I collect you from the sodden earth,
And I gather too, a piece of my heart.
"wake up, for its morning", claims a sing-song bird.
At my window she is still sitting, singing a renewed lay today.
Against that moment, I followed her flight,
I noticed the sky was bejeweled with rich sunshine!
I noticed the age-old "pillars", suddenly lucid under the sun
-Upon which the whole world is based,
The very pillars of Hope- they came alive!
Though rusty with age, they have given not way
To the unabated afflictions that our "modern" world portrays.
So now my heart of earth and moss and rain and sea- is calling out to you.
Amidst cyber corruption, do you hear me say "I love you"??
It aches to be adored my love,
Screams for your solicitude,
And if not- I can keep on this cycle of collecting "YOU",
From the profound earth, where you and I breathe...
As for me, last night was just a Prelude.....