Peacock Dance

Peacocks won’t dance
for nothing.
They would wait
for rains
and peahens;
who would trail them,
having dropped
their envy
and sexist pretence.
They would open
their plumes wide
in a charming fan,
take a swirl or two;
the drizzle
giving an impetus
to their steps
and rhythmic stance.

Not caring for
effeminate abandon
they would tilt
their long blue necks,
bob their heads a bit,
showing off
delicately feathered crowns.
They would then,
squeal through
the winds;
each one of them
saying “Kao, Kao,
I am here, come to me”
in rousing cadence.
By Uma Asopa

Copyright © Dr. Uma Asopa 2006