With embroidered turquoise silken feathers
It dances to the rhythm of the falling rain
And once down the eons to mellifluous tunes
Of the flute of Krishna

Standing to guard the pearly gates of paradise
It was lured by devil to allow it entry
On its resplendent feathers that fan glow
The hundred vigilant eyes of the faithful Argus
Embedded in his memory by Hera

It is a visual poem penned by the gods
Nature dexterously embroidered it to titivate
The throne of Luck , borrowing silken chords
From the coifers of Iris
Or is it where the stars, planets and moon
Hide in the brilliance of the day
To lie langourously in slumber till dusk comes
And where the sun reclines in silent night

With angelic patterns on feathers that glisten
And voice like the devil it swallowed
It walks stealthily on velvet feet like whispers
And shadows and secrets

The bird on which, Saraswati deity of knowledge rides
With eyes of omniscience staring from its plumage
It is a symbol of immortality
And of fidelity and undying love
That lives beyond  the grave and breathes loyal
 
It is Indra’s alter image and dances in rapture
When the wand of this deity flashes and rain pours
Also ridden by kama it is incarnate desire
This verse in turquoise walks in vain aloofness
Its plumage rarely on display
Its emotions in stoic control
But a vision it is when dancing in delight
One that never fades from memory…