Early Spring Poem by Saroj Padhi

Why does this early Spring tantalize me
with its light ooze from mango buds
that does not sink deep down my nose
to our familiar garden for the cuckoo in me to sing?

Why are these buds caught in a dilemma
between the fog and an aging Sun's first flickers
when the flaming Palasas' cores are caught
in the grips of beaks of some thirsty birds
that suck nectar from half-lit lips of petals
who are all very willing to fall with abandon
at the slightest flick from cool morning breeze?

Why does the cat on my quietly warming roof
who curls up to winks, is touched again and again
by grey leaves that fall on her furs to elicit secret purrs?

Why does the river so frequently delete
rhymes written on her body's rippling Timeline
by a wind amorous and insistent
but wavering so often without taking a beeline?