Karma, the careful Bird of Vigilance.
Methought, I can clip the wings of Karma,
Undo its doings and nudges,
Convert its Divine chattering into
a promenade
of unsilencing throb.
She being a
wakeful Bird of pouring
Takes me by
surprise, not flying away,
But pecking at the fruit, eyes the
World of notations
and permutations
As well. It looks
as if counselling,
‘Look at me. You Don’t saunter hither and thither,
Unless with
a motif. Practice stable in your
Garb of right thinking.”
Now she flies
from tree top
to topmost twig of rumination
to carry out her preordained ordeal.
Amazing is she with her dappled wings.
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