Ananda

Ananda - 1

She is a migrant bird
flying over the Himalaya
A tiny blue feather of hers
falls slowly, slowly,
and softly rests,
onto his warm palm
He looks up, into the sky
the moment, right there
in his eyes
She sees a vast deep lake

Ananda - 2

Cocoon, cocoon,
She squeezes out
streches her fresh wet wings,
dark blue blood injected into capillaries
That night
The crescent moon hangs lower than the roof
The green river rises higher than the willow