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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=576320" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Flight of Birds</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">“a poem should be wordless<br>as the flight of birds.”<br>—Archibald Macleish, Ars Poetica.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">birds don’t sing in their flight</div><div style="margin:10px 0">for them flying is a muse<br>they compose mid-air<br>weave agnostic verse<br>sneering haughtily at our absurdity<br>as they float over our meaningless mosques and churches<br>and those patrolled international borders<br>and other disputed sites<br>where the guns go bang bang bang all the time<br>they swing over there losing their birdegos<br>(ego is difficult to retain in mid-flight)<br>wondering about and watching men plucking out<br>and quashing the lives of other men and women and<br>poor helpless children and they<br>shed a birdtear or two from there<br>a birdtear that is lost midway due to heat of some explosion<br>down below some crazy fanatical bomb detonating<br>killing instantly the people and the city and the forests<br>and even the pitiable babybirds who are yet to learn to fly</div><div style="margin:10px 0">they contemplate of writing poems<br>about a bird’s egg charring<br>before even being boiled and scratch their beaks<br>unsure if this is a metaphor or simile or other poetic device</div><div style="margin:10px 0">o the birds have lots and lots and lots to write about<br>o their writings will never be banned</div><div style="margin:10px 0">they borrow freedom<br>to write poems in the sky<br>they come back and<br>pass it on to us<br>we take the song only<br>brutally<br>but at least we take the song</div><div style="margin:10px 0">to take the poem<br>to unscramble the words from the song and to put it back again<br>as song so spontaneously that it remains the poem and the song<br>to remember forever this refrain whose melody haunts us<br>and to hum that refrain which preserves our sanity<br>perhaps we need to fly<br>a trifle aimlessly like birds</div><div style="margin:10px 0">or because we are humans<br>six-sensed creatures with massive egos<br>and massive superegos and massive egos on the ego<br>and because of possessing gray matter<br>what doctors call medulla oblongata<br>we need to feel with our red hearts<br>than think with some unlocatable mind</div><div style="margin:10px 0">we need to look deeper. . .<br>into ourselves, into eyes<br>we need to lose ourselves<br>then, and only then</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the poems will come<br>silent<br>wordless<br>as the flight of birds</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(First published in Indian Literature)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Meena+Kandasamy">Meena Kandasamy</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=576320" data-title="The Flight of Birds de Meena Kandasamy" data-description="“a poem should be wordless
as the flight of birds.”
—Archibald Macleish, Ars Poetica.

birds don’t sing in their flight

for them flying is a muse
they compose mid-air
weave agnostic verse
sneering haughtily at our absurdity
as they float ..."></div>
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