Psithurism…

I achingly longed for him,
For the silence was deafening
He, the one who plays the tunes
And to which, I lovingly sway
Sometimes gently,
Sometimes vigorously
Longer are his songs on some days
Just a while, on others
At times he brings his friends
Who makes me tingle and sparkle
Mesmerised in their music
I give away my brittle babies
Slowly he stops his song but I remain allure
Away he takes the bodies of my dead children
And fumingly I wait for his return
But then, with his approaching music
I forget my dead children
And I simply give way to his needs
For its a vicious circle
His tunes and my dance
Are inseparable
For as long as life exists
“The wind plays his tunes
Along with his rain friends
A lone banyan tree sways
Shedding away her yellow brittle leaves…”
 
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