SEASON’S GUESTS

Once a year
they come
sans
with no prior information
no permission.
On a fine morning
we do witness
our unpredictable guests
perched on the branches
of trees
in the thick green forest.
We do rush to meet
our guests
watch them chirrup,
listen to their unknown languages
quite undecipherable
various kinds of voices
coming out of them
they too are of different
varieties, colours, shapes, beauty
everything.
We do enjoy the visual-feast
we the ones residing close-by
and the tourists from
far and near.
Different are our languages,
neither do we make any sense
out of it -
the meanings of their language
neither do they make any sense
out of our languages
so what, we do communicate
silently.
A few hours perched on
the branches
then flapping wings they
do fly away
know we not where
and by the evening as
the curtain of dusk
is lowered
their talks of the day
ways of communication
a visual treat worth
watching.
From the day one of
their visit traversing
distant lands
our hearts start drum-beating
knowing well.
One day
they would fly back to
where they came from
or to some other places
the pain and numbness
we experience
the emptiness that
fills our mind
but no
one day
they should have to
fly back, that’s their destiny
giving us indelible memories.
Then onwards
our next wait begins ….
for the next year
for the next season….