The Birds Never Returned
(A Vision and a Waking Dream)
(A Vision and a Waking Dream)
©May 6th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
Five birds unfolded like paper,
From my fingers, as I lay flat,
Palms upraised, staring up.
They fluttered in an updraft, and rose
Translucent and thin, into the still air,
While I lay on the table, and watched.
They wafted lazily above me,
Then rounded into snowy birds,
And flew away, disappearing
Beak by feather, wing by tail-tip.
Pinned down, like Gulliver,
Feeling large and unable to move,
I missed my birds with an ache
Too big to name, a vast hollow
Echoing with loss and need.
But a strange laughter bubbled within,
Rose up through me, and burst
Into the blue air, vanishing like mist,
Leaving me washed clean.
Thin needle-points pinning me down,
Dissolved my boundaries,
Travelled to my nerve-ends,
Sent mysterious messages,
And stayed beneath the radar
Of my inquisitive mind.
I saw music, heard fragrances,
Tasted the quietude in which I lay,
And had no words for company.
I wanted to lie there
In my snowy towel,
in that cool, quiet room,
With nary a person but me –
To lie there forever, making new birds
Which would pick me up,
And carry me away like a babe,
Towel and all, into an unnamed country,
Where I would find them again.
But the birds I had created
Never returned.
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