The Cuckoo

The Cuckoo Cuckoo sings the song of dream, He Sings with heart full of Joy, With short interval he sings, Sings with slow increasing sound. He sings and his song does stream, Over the dark trees and field, After evening fall he sings, The song of joy with deep pain. The song of heart inherent, With strong string inside the Being, Like the wanderer birds sings, The most painful tune of Mind. Mind is a bird with many voice, It Sings the song rotund and full, Song of mind is mellifluous, Voicing the voice against Voice. From deep dark corner of Mind, The cuckoo puts forth his soul, In the mystic full moon Night, With pain to meet his Lover. Light spreads over the Universe, Flooding the dark trees with song, Cuckoo the bird of joy and dream, From unseen Place he weeps with pain. With depth and deadly silence, The Cuckoo is mad with his strain, Singing the song of life and death, Night will bring for him a Mate. The stillness is deep and keen, Only Crickets are passionate, With the cacophony of nocturnal, The Cuckoo is a mushy Mind Flowing. ********** @Prabir Gayen - 18/03/2019 - 8: 47 PM.