Ode to chaitra*

When ever the season of spring comes
crowds of poets in the sub-continent 
gather truck-loads of mango-groves and cuckoos and
cram them into their pages-
My experience is another
Did you ever see the cycle of time?
See! I will show the sequence.

The wind entered the branch;
a rain of old leaves fell on the earth-
then sitting on the naked branch the cuckoo sang-

The branch beamed with new leaves
it is the neem tree in the front yard of my house
it saw me and laughed-

Then on its branches fell a rain of stars
I ran to catch some of those stars-
they are not the twinkling stars of the sky.
Their fragrance unparalleled 
by that of any flower in creation-
The lavishness of the scent of the new flowers
intoxicated me-
My thoughts got vanquished.
I stood like an innocent boy
before the neem tree.

I too grew little little branches
with twinkling star like flowers on them.
Then the neem tree took me into its arms-

If experience is a reality
for the deity of illusion
then dream is its temple-

the monks say that
illusion and reality are different-
is it true?
Is metaphor an illusion?
Think, think and think ………
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*Chaitra is the first month of spring in the Asian Sub- continent

-Seshendra Sharma 

http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com