Creation of the Birds Poem by Nitoo Das

Ekphrasis IX:
for Remedio Varo

Close your eyes, owl woman.
You don't need to see
to break night, starlight
into birds.

Refract them into beaks,
wings, crests, tails. Birth them
prismatically, mother owl.
Who wants eggs, nests, mates?

Ask an upside down
metal ant to filter air into
blueyellowred. Quicken in them

a hopping,
grain-searching, flying-
fluttering, head-
cocking yearning.
Much like yours, owl
woman of the frail feet.
Much like yours.

Your calm, shut-eyed yearning
to know the air, the stars, the dark.

Wire them
with your guitar heart.
Let them hear the thrum
throb strum string of your blood.