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She moves smoothly,

Whispering tender ciphers to the wind,

Her each movement elegant,

Delicate.

Softly caressing the air,

With an effortless glide.



Her pearly whiteness

Surpasses the moonlight-

A subtle twinkle.

The breeze moves her hair;

The silver flimsy strands,

Gently float along.



She flows lightly,

Her hips gyrating softly;

To the right,

Then to the left,

Moving in their own rhythm,

Making their way

Through the mild breeze,

Slowly-

Very slowly.



And then finally she stops,

Her journey ends.

Over the vast land,

The feather finally rests-

And prepares herself for

Yet another journey,

To wherever these soft zephyrs

Carry her next…



Shilpa Ahuja

21 Jan, 2009