MAGNETIC
Who
calls every night wakes up alerted,
Listens
to the flue playing a tune, unique,
Entangles
heart overwhelm but invisible,
Floating
in the air pervading nature sweet,
Looked
outside through the windows cold night,
Freezing
night full moon dark clouds floating,
The
surreal panorama instrumental dreamy,
House
near the river bends near tranquil,
Silence
night is fragrant melodious distinct,
Incessant
the rhythm flute intoxicates me,
Inviting
in doubt reaching me seducing,
Every
fiber tissue blood vibrates attuned,
Why
am I crying, flowing freezing tears,
Glistening
with moonlight, silvery, mystic,
The
invitation, a mystery, a place known,
Ignorant
me, who plays the flute is extraordinary,
Attenuate
the silence of night unparallel,
Stood
for hours in the dead of night,
Listens
to the melody magnetic flowing,
The
cold winds of January are mind-blowing,
Hurting
every bone through the window,
Closed
it, slept under a thick blanket, shivers,
Gradual
the warmth crept dreams,
Saw
a handsome youth playing the flute,
Encompassing
the green forests floral scene,
Creating
a specter of heavenly peace,
The
cows crowd around the young man,
Visible
the hypnotic melody quieting all,
The
birds throng the branches still,
The
river in waves gentles as if playing,
A
gentle breeze, grassy fields, river bank,
Minutely
witnessing the flute touching all,
The
tranquility of unearthly mingle rhythm,
The
youth is like a pied piper controlling all,
Bewitched,
bewildered, baffled, the surround,
Everything
immobile attuned enjoying,
Captive
to the tune flute plays slowly,
Unmoved
neither day nor night in a haze,
The
witness is my soul to the spectral haze,
Slept
that night at dawn and jerked awake,
Distinctly
remember the dream unforgettable,
Clear
to me the music of flute speechless,
It
continues playing when alert or in dreams,
Who
plays this note overwhelms wordless,
Crossed
the river near the village search,
Weeks
and months passed I roamed every village,
Nobody
could answer me on such a youth,
Sits
among cow herd on a rock plats flute,
Failed
in my attempt left the efforts,
It
struck all of a sudden that I encountered,
Met
this youth when a child decades ago,
Playing
his flute, herding a hundred cows,
The
bells of cows ringing beautifully,
All
of the cows follow the youth to the field,
Stood
electric moments first heard a melody,
Forgotten
the scenes, dustbowl golden,
The
setting sun orange red hued sky,
Failed
as a child, and where I am,
Is
it me dreaming smiled so real,
Behind
the dusty haze, disappeared by now,
Forgotten
the tune, its infectious melody,
Grew
up years saw seasons distracted,
Youthful
female fantasy stole my heart,
Settled
had a family life, fatherly experience,
Clouded
childhood serenity, innocence,
An
age arrived past twilight years sensed,
It
is time to connect life in a cycle of secrecy mist,
Someone
playing the flute revived memory,
Dawn
to dusk, midnight, if my life the flute,
Playing
my tune that I can listen to,
Pervading
the ether beyond the window,
Soul
only felt it was that magnetic.
Pen:
Bijayananda Mishra
Title
of Poem: Magnetic
Themes:
If life was not the flute
Date:
8th January 2023, Cuttack
@
Copywrite.
