BABLU Kazi
Birbhum, West Bengal
“Ma,” asked Khokon, “tell me why
So many birds at dawn
Sing songs we hear with just our ears,
Though all their words are gone?
No harmonium, tabla, drum
No instruments at all,
Yet their sweet tunes linger on,
Echoing through the call.
No real words their music has,
Only tunes we hear,
Still in that melody we find
Emeralds, rubies, clear.”
His mother smiled and softly said,
“The One who made this land,
We know Him by so many names,
His touch is in each hand.
All of Earth was shaped by Him,
With power deep and wide,
And gifts He gives to every soul
With love none can hide.”