The New Flute

He walks alone

on the wavy hills

playing the flute

golden and melodious

dispelling dry clouds

beyond the sky,

Who is he ?

Is he the waylost Krishna!

wandering aimless

after Kurukshetra

with the blood of mankind

spating his senses.

His guilty mind repenting

in golden music or is he

a pathfinder walking for

his magic discovery.

Is he immune from hunger

and thirst?

Does he sleep

in the thorny forest

lonely and wild?

Is he searching for me,

for my arms to lull

him to sleep in my lap.

He must have lost his way

waiting to sing another

Gita for Man.

I'll walk rising up

from my seat of worries

new and old,

without me he is incomplete

He cannot create another Gita

nor create the rhythm of life,

Let me rush I am late

wasting time in idle talk.

Sabita Sahu