Anoushka Shanka

ringlets of ebony
left foot exposed
beating the time
as I supposed
beautiful eyes
often closed when she plays
plucking the strings
of the Sitar to raise

awareness each raga
sensationally
lifts one’s emotion
out of a sea
of thought and of patterning
into a dream
where a old sunken galleon
lies it would seem

classic proportions
a jewel in her nose
you can cut the tranquility
of a sweet rose
that blossom of red
with a scent of the night
as her fingers wrap around the strings
and the light

shines with such passion
such movement such sense
creation enlivens the music from whence
she came from those eastern shores
far far away
where the great Ganges flows
both night and both day

she sings with a subtlety
sounds come and go
I’m mesmerised by her
as most people know
Anoushka Shankar
a shadow maybe
and a soft shining star
for the whole world to see