Window glass

I woke up to this window glass this morning
As the tree , a tiny branch , waves on the glass
A moving shadow made by tree+wind +glass
Not a sleep dream but a waking word dream
A beauty engendered by a tree+glass+wind

Beauty came from this very tree+glass+wind+I
Who had woken up, me and words, from a body
That is a part, a string, a voice, an eye, a water
Sloshing in it, in the eyes, raindrops of color,
A fan whirring, a sound ,a beauty of mountain
A rumbling, clouds wet touching, a silver river
Just like the tree waving -a- creaking at wind
Brown dog barking at dark, snout wet and dark.

But I say, cut out this “I’ from window glass
The body that woke up at dawn to the window
Let the dream continue on the window glass.


About nisheedhi

Retired banker with poetry and photography as chief interests
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