The Owl

Google Image

 

That owl is a bird of violence, that it kills to live I would not believe when I was a kid because of the bird’s association with Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and prosperity. Of course it had to be a small, milk white owl to be the Vahana (vehicle or mount) of Lakshmi. Old women used to say each of their hoots and screeches spills death and ill luck. I didn’t believe that either. To me they belonged to myth and were shy, precious, divine and seen by the pious eyes only.

As a bird watcher no one’s journey is complete but I had seen a lone Lakshmi owl on one moonless Diwali night. Its white plumage, slightly dappled, glowed like silver fire. It took its perch on a lamppost. And I had to hang my head in shame for the poor thing was confused by the sound of crackers and almost blinded by the light pollution.

in an autumn night

I count the fall of feathers

of wisdom

 

Posted for Haibun Monday @ dVerse hosted by Victoria

 

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Blue Shadows (An ekphrastic poem)

THE MAGPIE: CLAUDE MONET

 

I look at

my snowscape heart-

where you live

in blue shadows-

pale sun

spills whatever it can

to undo you-

I can’t say

‘five for silver

six for gold’-

for it’s always

one for me.

 

 

Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #13 hosted by Thotpurge