Inspired By a Little Bird That Sings in the Woods .
By Ritu Borah
When an overdose fleet of rain roams wild and cruise ,Free near hearth , and Wide around the side of grove .Tuck'd beneath those trails where pearls and gold tie .Them heralding the cuckoo from the quiver dawn ,Among the wildest woods where the snorting cricket greets ,As overgrazing hoofs of springhood last those corn .Then I sliver , silver from the breaks of croaking woes ,Nestling bees of eve in turn , bask among such morn ,As yuling breeze from the heaven - rolls into caress , While Sizzlers in thunderstorm lay stacks their hill ,Such with Keith eyes - lore over my heart's bank . Tis ' love of a million dew creen to flesh beams ,As rough leaf foliage , and zest the lone owl fresh ‡...And as a little black bird vaults its heartopen wide...I switch ... switch off my mind adjourned !Peep peep peep ...pippipp , peep peep peep…Pippipp..peet .
By Ritu Borah
What stood out most to me is the pacing — the poem does not march in a straight line; it wanders, meanders, and expands, exactly like the rain and breeze it keeps returning to. And then the ending — the sudden shift inward, the quiet surrender, the mind “switching off.” After all that sensory abundance, the silence hits with surprising weight. It makes the whole poem feel like an emotional ascent followed by release. Kudos!