An Ektara named Mrunmayee (Made of Earth)

When she sings, her single string
moving, dancing to your beat
I see sunlight slanting on you
I watch little insects doing daily things
I gently touch the flower that will soon grow into gourd
I sit with you when your mood shifts with the moon
I smell you – all mud and moisture, my mother, the earth
who makes every morsel of food and note of music
that keeps me alive and I rest
in the harmonies you make with your voices
all playing together in my heart. 


Note: Today being Earth Day and Eid, this poem is dedicated to the divine mother earth and her many offspring, including Mrunmayee, an Ektara I have yet to meet in person but who I have heard in my heart.