A revival of the past
the way I sang once
recollected fast
several decades hence
the voice in a mellifluous swing
reached the notations high
came down to the base as a spring
now it strains to go up in the fly
remains stuck between the wings
cracks and creaks almost
breaks and filters in a post
yet I sing in a closed space
afraid of being teased in the open
the music in me finds its place
as I sing in the privacy chosen.
Meenas Poems 