A Bird on the Tree
Beneath the blue sky, the floating white clouds, a bird flew,
Paused for a moment, fluttered its wings, sat atop the branch,
The topmost branch of the cherry tree, sat alone in silence,
It viewed the scene below from its high perch, a superb seat,
Just for a little while, serene and splendid, in its isolation,
It seemed to enjoy, in a mute minute, free of any twittering.
I sat there in my white steel chair, bathed in the golden light,
I watched the bird that morn, steeped in a reverie, it flew away.
Spring season with its budding blossoms, with its tender leaves,
Spreading a green mantle with its varied shades and shapes,
Late frost retreats at the arrival of the joyous spring of hope,
Men and women, kids and puppies ventured out with a sprint,
Pandemic isolation had hitherto ripped apart their joy in life,
Freed somewhat from the fetters that bound them so harsh,
They all ventured forth in family groups to recapture that glory,
That evaded them when this virus turned their lives into a mess.
As is my wont these spring days, after my walk morn and eve,
By the side of my house, shaded by the tall, spreading trees,
A walk steady and slow as befits my declining age and strength,
A walk that aids in keeping my joints supple for my daily move,
I sit in my garden white chair, watching nature in its entire garb,
Watch the scenes of those who pass by, some with kids and pets,
Some with a smile, others lost in themselves wending their way.
I sat alone, bereft of company, as the family pursues their own lives.
A period mostly spent alone, a time in reminiscence of the past,
Well aware that life’s toil must be endured to the last breath
With my own efforts, I turn to Lord Sai for direction to proceed,
Musings on little things open up a wider vista of beauteous things,
Bird on the treetop bring poignant vision of the flight of fancy,
Which Keats flew on the wings of poesy to be with the nightingale,
So did I wish to alight with the bird on the treetop to enjoy scenes,
Alas, it cannot be, sensing my limitations, I am content with my lot.
As Sai guidance jolts me from wandering mind to think deep and true,
I see around me scenes of the lovely creation of the creator Himself,
Rich foliage on the trees bewitching with their shades and shapes,
Flowers red, pink, green and yellow with their petals neatly arranged,
Who else but the Divine craftsman could arrange them so flawless?
Seated on my white chair in the garden with the divine gift before me,
With the bird on the tree teaching me joy with its silent meditation,
I bowed in humility to Lord Sai for all His offering of Divine Wisdom.
~Kanaga Ranganathan, US, May 22, 2021
