Thursday, December 16, 2010

birds in the snow-wind

The snow is blowing like a wind. You can hear it rise and fall, as if the gushing water of a stream. The beauty of the white creates awe and humility in the mind. Look up. Your sight will catch a bird surfing in the snow. It bends and curves, swoops down and fly up. All in this snow. If you step out of the warmth of the hearth, your nose will freeze, your tongue will be like a spade, itching with a sharp senile sensation. But the birds can fly, even in it. They do it simply. Simple it appears to the eye that sees the wings spread out, a bird in the sky, in its domain you believe. To the eye that sees the bird pecking the dry leaves, looking for food, coming down to the isles of green that emerge in the sun, to that eye the bird is strong. It faces the storm. Maybe because it is its domain. To live in the eye of the storm.

birds in the snow

Image: by self, using Paint. 2010.


Anonymous said...

Love the poem and textures of the painting! Bhalo theko, Yasmeen

Susmita said...

thank u bondhu :)tumio khub bhalo theko

Subarnasree said...

the bird or these birds are so myself or so like us!! sometimes we learn to live at the eye or the storm, at times we drift apart. at least i try, i flap my wings and twitch my eyes to get a clear vision if thats not the path of destiny!

Susmita said...

keep flying Subarnasree! to fly is to fulfill the destiny :)