The young man put Small cells Into the violin And tried to Move the bow On a movable plate The violin moved To music And a man Who was watching All amused Standing Moved with it To take it As a consoling gift Not today Or tomorrow He would wait With satisfaction And patience And memories And imagination
With a young girl He has been moving in And out of the toy shops In a far away land To find a violin Like the one that Was made on her birthday cake
Today he stepped into A toyshop and found Joy with a violin To take home For a girl Not today Nor the next month
But he would stay Awake to see The Joy travelling With him from one Continent of fruits To another continent of roots
Even before the aircraft Touches the runway The heart runs home As a child rushes To welcome her Home-coming father
The bow in the tiny hands On the strings of violin Moving with satisfaction slowly And with Joy shouldered Short-lived though Deep at the moment Deep as distance Is oceanic even Memories grope in Darkness as the days Pass by slowly and stealthily For the beginning of A Journey homeward With earnings and yearnings As the bow moves on the strings of a violin Is soothing though Heard for a brief period Expands ripples into ripples On the entire surface And creates the image Of tiny fingers holding A bow on the strings of A tiny violin Though small, encompasses Cosmos in the tiny Palm of her hands.
