Cut it right below at the stem
Where it bursts out of the soil
Seeking light and rain and air
The soil softened with the fallen yellowed leaves.
In the grove,
Warblers might be twittering
Pheasants would be muttering
Doves would be cooing
Lizards would be basking
In the sun.
The lone old cobra would be huddling,
Its last skin too, shed.
Above, the green slender long leaves
Would be chattering in the breeze
The poles, a-yellowed, a- green
Would be listening and smiling.
Cut it – in one swing
Let it not split
Do not – listen to the muted groans
The pain of parting.
Lay them side by side
Like soldiers fallen at the cavalry charge.
Forget the snake
Forget the Warbler
Forget the breeze
Forget the creaking song
The bamboo had sang together
Swaying in the gentle wind-
Ra Ra Ra Ra Ra Ra
Ra Ra Ra Ra Ra Ra
Ra Ra Ra Ra Ra Ra .
When the murmur finally stops
Walk away – but -
Do not turn and look around
Lest your eyes fall on
The severed hearts of the Bamboo - Or
Your heart you left behind, bleeding.
***************** Balachandran,30.07.2008
