The Woodpecker Story

The song that comes out of heart
But cannot be hum,
The portrait that is sketched
But cannot be exhibit;

As soon as
It transformed into a reverie,
Concealed in the deepest corner;
The smell of the burning soul
Dismayed the Zephyr of the Twilight.

Alice,
In these minutes
Wandering leaves of the inert tree
Speak in silence with the wind
And the stars speak with the fire-flies.

And
By those moments
In the blinking beam of the street lights
The reverie gets life again,
It voyages reverse to the stream
Through the heart of Kaveri (Cauvery).

From far away somewhere
There comes the sawing sound
Perhaps a Woodpecker,
Building its nest…………………………….