An Ode from My Childhood

In the shower last night, I found myself waltzing lyrical, reciting a poem I read ages ago in the pages of a nondescript English language comprehension textbook at primary school.

Who has seen the wind?
neither I nor you:
but when the leaves hang trembling
the wind is passing thro'

Who has seen the wind?
neither you nor I:
but when the trees bow down their heads
the wind is passing by

---Christina Rossetti

Whatever precipitated that cognitive itch I don’t really know.
But that got me thinking.
What self-respecting man recites a poem learnt at primary school in the shower, a poem probably now reserved for the exclusive use of children with special needs at a grade F crèche?
Why is my brain taking me back to primary school anyway?
Maybe I have not really learnt anything worth my brain’s while since my primary school days. Perhaps my pitiful cognitive play list is made up of that solo number and my brain is trying hard to preempt from carrying on like that.
Be it as it may, thanks to months of exposure to NY’s cookery of poetic classics, I am beginning to discover the enchanting, beautiful and colorful landscape of poetry. Now I see poetry all around me. And who knows?

Perhaps, reciting that poem under the shower was the awakening of a unfulfilled need within myself or the beginning of a literary adventure of a lifetime.
Whatever it is, I can’t wait any longer!

PS: Check my second blog here