The morning bird in my city, a poem by Ali Imran

A blissful voice floats

from the boughs

of a solitary tree in my street

to land straight

upon my heart.

Is this the magical love song

I have been craving?

Or Nature’s boon that I lost

and is back now

to stimulate my senses

in the lazy hours?

Sweet and soulful,

oh, you must be the morning bird

for I savor your voice

like some pure nectar

flowing into my starved soul

from a pristine vale.

But your name, I can’t tell

oh bird, for I am opiated

in the endless allures of city life.

Like some Egyptian mystery

or the Gandharan art history

you continue to elude me

but your voice

reawakens my quest

for the new undiscovered tunes!

I look around, and wonder:

Could we ever sing 

like you and share love

and joys all around?

Consumed by our incessant desires 

and digital devices,      

we have shortchanged our lives-

we continue to deepen the chasm 

of our disconnects

with each passing click, 

and forget what we saw 

moments ago.

We are stifling 

the birds in us

and around us

more callously than ever before.

Yet, I can’t help but muse

if we could ever summon up

the forgotten spirit

to sing from our hearts

and strum the strings

of love and common care

oh, morning bird, your way, 

not our broken way!