Birds

this morning
my eyes
were plucked out
from the cold screen
and into the warm blues
that came alive
with the wings of birds
of the season,

some rose together
in a crowd,
an amoeba changing shape
with the winds of desire,
some flew against the grain,
joyfully exploring
new skies and ground,
away from their flock,
while some others
chose to soar alone,
as if to embrace
the whole world
with their out-stretched wings,

and I thought to myself,
how the waters inside me
come alive
with different birds
in different seasons.

black ribbon rising
eyes trapped between boundless blues
explode into wings

Wild Thoughts

Waking up to birdsong and
sharp, persistent pecks
on an illusory window pane;
A nip in the air wakes up
the sleepy hair on my hide,
as I open the door
to soak in the beauty of the wild;
Earthy smells of old leaves
laid to rest on a moist floor,
3G that works
even in the back of beyond;
Missing hot rasam and rice
and home-cooked veggies;
Thinking about what we call home,
and how far away we were from it;
Feeling humbled by the magnitude
of our world and all that lives in it,
in forgotten nooks;
Soaking in the paradoxes
that rule our lives
is not easy;
Wild thoughts
consume me -
just like wild fire,
until I rest in the moment
and watch them dancing. ....

What is home?

Have you for once,
stopped a moment to think -
"What is home?"
for the birds, 
butterflies and bees,
that cross over 
miles of emptiness,
to survive, sustain and seek?
Have you for once
wondered and asked -
"What is home 
for you and me?"
Is it what we leave behind? 
Or is it what we seek?

Finding my song

A little bird
on a faraway tree,
I lived with a flock,
wild and free;
yet something was wrong
for I could not sing,
like my brothers and sisters,
who serenaded the Wind.
I had lost my voice,
while I listened to them sing,
until one day
my friend - the Wind,
called me to come
to a place he had been;
I shuddered, I quivered
to fly away with him.
So he took me and held me,
and showed me the way,
I grew new wings on my body,
as I flew away;
He roared and he whistled,
and lifted me up high,
to see the rainbow in a grey cloud,
that was passing by;
and then there was silence -
as I closed my eyes,
I heard songs from my family,
I also heard mine!
Each song was so different,
so special, so true,
like colours of the rainbow,
each had its own hue;
So have you found your own song,
to sing out to the world?
I finally found mine!
and I sing it out to you now!