The winds of vrindhavan
Were royally stirred
And there silence redeemed
When he held the bamboo
Flute to his glossy lips
And let flow a morning raga…
The intense fragrance of
Kadamba blooms filled
Her divinely soundless vicinity
Which ceremoniously resounded
The clanging of her trinkets
When she sprinted towards the banks of Yamuna…
The same winds of vrindhavan
Drove themselves into eternal
Sacrament of grave silence
Since she stopped to dance
For he forfeited his gentle flute
And stormed the battle field of kurukshetra…
Seema Aarella
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/silence-220/
