pantun for an angsana
Joshua Ip
when are you going to listen to the wind,
the rain that is no longer euphony,
before you leap, angsana, spread your wings
and float to where they have no name for “tree”?
the rain that is no longer euphony
or lullaby, hushes your yellow bloom –
you float to where they have no name. for tree
will fall, yet fruit hangs pregnant in the womb
and lullabies hush where the yellow blooms
and poems end where each new seed begins.
will fall and fruit hang pregnant? in the womb,
when are you going to listen to the wind?