EARLY SPRING

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 is the cat on my quietly warming roof,

who curls up to winks,  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 ?

@ copy right : saroj k. padhi. 31/01/15