lesson in subtlety

lesson in subtlety

śiśira, like a distant song
that slowly draws you into its music,
beckons me from my work
to let in and listen.

i hear it's light murmur into our room
a little early, each morning.
in the jubilant wind that flits
between fallen and newborn leaves.
in the richly fragrant mango blooms on the street.
and the altered tune of the chirping birds.

at home, we spend most of our days and evenings
by the window, with curtains pulled aside,
watching outside, reading, bird or sky gazing.
weaving freshly blossomed mogras
and hanging them by the window, to perfume the air.

this season, between the stark winter and the promising spring,
offers its unpretentious magic quietly.
like a benign lesson in subtlety.

. . .

monday noontide
the first
phālguna