Seek it out late at night

the trilling –

of a loud melody.

There never was a lovelier sunbird,

emblazoned

in all its glory.

Late at night,

the sunbird picks up the fray –

the moon shines bright in between the bars.

The breath of the universe,

cascades in disarray –

prayers and hymns hum the broken stars.

It feels the stroke of the trade-winds gale

amidst the singing of the mountain.

It feels the whistling of the migration sail,

but for now, it may only listen.

Its wings spread ever higher,

holding its head above water blue.

The cage lovingly keeps it in,

a warbled and longing lullaby true.

Late at night in its heart and vision,

it sings gently and wise through the roof of Cho You.

Tracing by the wide division,

Ever faster, ever higher,

feeding sadly, the snow of Kathmandu.

Drifting above the pulsating sphere,

almost tasting the wild dagga nectar —

tasting colours, vigour and fear —

But the sunbird awakens from its distant dream

fed by hands of a powerful king.

Here it lives, glorious and lifeless –

and thus the sunbird 

begins

to sing.