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WIND BENEATH THE WINGS

By Jasmine Kang


A pujari chants in the morning air;
A musician sets a bhajan on his tabla,
While a dancer dances.

Afar by the River Ganga,
A sadhu wanders, and dear
Children bathe to be blessed
By the flowing river.

This wind blows hard,
Never giving up its breath.
It echoes against the bones,
And is the fuel for these wings.
With this wind our wings flutter,
Flock and bathe.

We can fly with wings,
But it is the wind that carries us on.
It is the wind that belongs.
These wings are not the source of existence.

Leave the river and flee to the sea
You will say with wings,
But no, it is the wind,
That does the flying.

Without this wind,
There would be no fleeing.
With this wind,
There is the name of life.



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