December

Just re-visiting an old favourite poem of mine simply titled, ‘December’. Hope you like ūüôā

Image and poem copyright Vibina Narayan

Little bird.

Are you lost amongst

the thorny brambles

knitting up the clear freezing sky.

Are you hungry?

For the grains, the kind, placid strangers of summer

Once threw your way.

Are you searching for the voice

that you once used for

singing the forlorn ballads of

autumn love that

died along with their leaves.

You know, I am here

Waiting with a basin full

of love and salt, shed

this bygone year.

Soaking in them the

seeds of tomorrow for

a much brighter morning,

a much silent noon,

to plant in the soil

of my little strength.

Don’t leave me a trinket.

It is nothing but another memory of you.

Another memory of you

Owing me something.

You may have heard of this,

But my love knows no debts,

or simple words of gratitude.

Just pay me a visit,

A flutter of your beautiful wings,

And those colourful plumes

to frenzy my ill heart.

For to see your beating bosom,

Throbbing with a million unsung songs to be proud of,

And your eyes meeting a million friends

amongst yours or otherwise,

Bring a thousand rhythms of joy,

to my winter soul and

December thoughts.

December

Little bird.

Are you lost amongst the thorny brambles

That are knitting up the winter sky.

Are you hungry

For the grains, the kind, placid strangers of summer

Threw your way.

Are you looking for the  voice 

That was once used for singing

The tragic ballads of autumn love

That died along with them

Leaves.

You know,

I am here

Waiting with a basin 

Full of love and tears of a bygone 

Year.

Soaking the seeds of tomorrow,

A much brighter morning, 

A much calmer noon,

In the soil of my little strength.

Don’t leave me a trinket.

It is nothing but 

Another memory of you 

Owing me something.

You must have heard this 

But my love knows no 

Gratitude,

Or simple words.

Only pay me a visit,

Or pay me a flutter

Of your beautiful wings,

And those colourful plumes.

For to see

Your beating bosom,

Throbbing with a million 

Dreams and,

And your eyes 

Meeting a million

Destinies,

Beats a thousand rhythm of 

Lives,

In my heart and

December thoughts.