(The poetic form selected for this month is the ghazal.)
Let us dance at the top of a hill, in love with the wind;
Twirl, outstretched arms, in fields, like a mill, in love with the wind.
Kettle drums pound out the rhythm, the trumpets play fanfares;
Clarinets, flutes, and piccolos trill, in love with the wind.
On sleds on a slope, hair all atumble, mouths all agape –
Faster! Faster! They scream loud and shrill, in love with the wind.
The students kick footballs; they tussle and sweat as they brawl.
The ball soars up higher and hangs… still… in love with the wind.
Fires in forests, prairies, and farms show little mercy,
They stampede through landscapes all at will, in love with the wind.
Leaves in the autumn skate circles, waltz waltzes, turn cartwheels,
These joy clowns of leaves, they know the drill – in love with the wind.
Arthritic and shaky, slightly deaf, unable to dance,
Bruce sits quiet and watches. No, not ill – in love with the wind.
This one not only does justice to the genre of ghazals in both form and content but transcends to something much more. It is in the league of the finest odes penned by the Romantic era poets, such as Ode to a Nightingale by John Keats, and can proudly stand next to them. The poem is a celebration of the sensuousness of the wind in all its splendour —acoustical, tactile, visual, and spatial. The spirit of the wind has been captured in the reciprocal freedom and freshness it invokes in people, nature and elements. The conclusion hits hard, opening an altogether new perspective on life even as it reaffirms the rejuvenating qualities of the wind. The imagery is vivid, musical, picturesque and playful, and sad, and each one forces one to pause and ogle at the image invoked before the mind’s eyes, the ball hanging still in the air, the leaves waltzing and doing cartwheels, and the stillness of the elderly man.
I just adore this poem, Bruce!
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thank you, Uma. And your translation of the Hindi wind poem a while back was the inspiration! It is my favourite ghazal of the ones I’ve written – and I like it very much. I appreciate you detailed comments. I am very excited by them!
LikeLiked by 3 people
It is a beautiful composition deserving a much wider audience.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It has gained the least lot of likes in a month! I think Westerners are scared of the ghazal perhaps. Not understanding it. And I must admit I didn’t really “get it” until I tried to write one. I think I understand the form now and how it works. One thing I would like to try is using metrical feet; until now I’ve had the same number of syllables in each line. Next week’s ghazal is my last for the month – but I’ve already composed it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This one is a classic that defies forms. It begs the readers to pause and feel what it says verse after verse. Perhaps many folks these days are suffering from the Bullet-Train-on Facebook-Timeline-Syndrome* where they must decide within a millisecond whether they like a post or not and scoot away.
*My own concoction.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Your concoctions are always worthy of note!
LikeLiked by 1 person
As long as my frayed nerves can manage it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
When do you move cities, or have you done it?
LikeLike
I am in the middle of the whole dang thing. It is in the middle of the state that is in the middle of the country and is rather middling profile. And for the first time in my life I am having migraines (which are a bit lopsided though).
Here is the place: https://www.google.co.in/maps/place/Bhopal,+Madhya+Pradesh/@23.1993477,77.2658056,11z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m5!3m4!1s0x397c428f8fd68fbd:0x2155716d572d4f8!8m2!3d23.2599333!4d77.412615
LikeLiked by 2 people
It looks to be lovely – lakes and all. And green! And at present it’s only 26°C. Such things should hopefully cure any migraine…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have to rent an apartment there and the bloody landlords are giving me the willies. (I think you are familiar with that ache in the neck.)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve had some good landlords – I just don’t like to talk about them!
LikeLiked by 2 people
I for one will be sad when July comes to an end, you are really honing this form of poetry, Bruce. I do hope it won’t be long before you return to this type. I wish I was as articulate as Uma, but I’m not, so please accept my sincere appreciation.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, Yvonne. None of Us can be as erudite as Uma (I suspect!) Your appreciation is more than appreciated! Thank you so much.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hey, what have you folks in Kiwi-land done to anger the gawds of weather?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Every one is talking about the weather but I haven’t turn the tele on in months and it seems quite alright outside – between the odd shower.
LikeLike
Dear Yvonne and Bruce, I am a bit like Yvonne in A Passing Shower…
LikeLiked by 2 people
I’m in love with the wind – it was blustering outside as I read this, loved the rhythm and the kaleidoscope of images that was just like that blustering.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, Andrea. It was blustery outside my window too when I posted it!
LikeLiked by 1 person