a poet’s walk
By: Manan Sheel
Tags: Nature, Description, Poet, Walk, Thoughts

world from the eyes of a poet

Tree Fire © Manan sheel (author)

It is the beginning of spring. The world is beautiful. After a harsh winter, life breathes again. The warmth is welcome by all and the earth is rejoicing. I have come out for a walk in the park close to my home. As I enter the park, I see purple flowers on the ground. It is lovely to look at the colorful flowers after a long winter when there was nothing but the white of snow spread everywhere.

As I move ahead, I see a cherry tree with light pink cherry blossoms which looks so beautiful that it seems like it is other-worldly, almost heavenly. I sit on a bench for some time. One brown squirrel has climbed up the bench and is looking at me eagerly with its black eyes. A few light brown sparrows are hopping on the grass in front of me. Their chests puff and contract, and their tails move up and down as they breathe. There is a pond in front of me. A gentle warm breeze is flowing which is making the water at the pond’s surface to flow with it. It looks as if someone has put her lips close to the water and is softly whistling on it. As the wind flows on the pond, a million little pieces of water on its surface shiver making it a sight laced with playful peace and subtle love. Just now, the sun has made its way through a bluish-grey cloud and its rays have filled the little pieces of water on the pond’s surface. This jhilmil shimmer of sun on water is to a poet more precious than all the wealth of gold in the world.

Now, I get up from the bench and move nearer to the pond. Two dark green frogs with slimy black eyes are sitting on the pond’s edge. Suddenly, one of them takes a big leap and lands into the pond with a Chapp-Gulup-Ank. I am curious about frogs. Even when they are so slimy and weird, I don’t fear them like I do the lizards. I think that there is an element of cuteness in them that is not present in the reptiles.

I come to the bench again and start reading a book of poetry that I had bought with me. The poet is talking about that nectar which is inside us and that flowers in a million colors all around us. What the poet is saying is true and beautiful. I read the poems and fill myself with honey. And then at one point, the sweetness becomes too much to endure. I close the book and prefer nature to words, for I can see that what words contain is all around me. Maybe this poet did not find such a beautiful park to come to, and thus he could write so much from imagination. If he would have come to nature directly, there would not be any need to write. Or maybe he wrote in a leisurely way after encountering everything, I don’t know. These are playful thoughts that arise in me and with which I maintain my tenderness and melody in this otherwise straightforward world.

Do you know I am a poet? I am saying this because I maintain willingly these playful, tender thoughts of mine. I don’t want them to leave me. I know that they create trouble for me because of this world that wants everyone to just be ambitious and utilitarian. I love to work but also think that a little poetry, a little sweetness never hurt anyone…

© Manan sheel.