It starts at sharp ten
just as I am adrift
to weave my dreams
the chickaree rhythm
pair of jangling anklets
Out on clandestine errand
beyond the shadowed arbor
of a gently fragrant garden
they sound like rather heavy
silver links intricately
woven into design masterfully
worn on pair of delicate feet
First few weeks I blamed
the poor little creekers
infesting my garden,
I must tender sincere apology
I had my ears plastered
to every move and sway
of the clanging tunes made
by the secret crusaders
So I lay and wondered
half asleep half perplexed
was it a bird calling its mate
or squirrel stealing nuts
Finally I concluded, it definitely
Was an anklet'ed lady visitor
another being, not human
dancing with her mate humming a Ballard
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Copyright ©Seema Jayaraman, Mumbai 4Nov2015 All Rights Reserved
Rhythmic sounds - even classical music may feel like disturbance to the ear when heard first time. The trained ear will appreciate a variety of sounds. The compassionate ear may interpret a deeper meaning to every sound. The orchestra of ht birds on trees is inimitable indeed. Beautifully presented in the poem.
Thank you Tirupathiji, its amazing the wide pallete nature provides layer over layer if one pays attention and then imagination takes over.
Thank you Kelly, several nights I wondered on the perfect jangling sound this creature makes a bigger sound than crickets till i conclufed it was other worldly beings making them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a little imagination makes life more interesting thanks-10