Wednesday, 22 February 2012

Merged morning musings

Mornings are mergings
where the namer is lost
among greens
blushed with dew and mist
and trees evade definitive line
leaf hugs leaf
in an immemorial yearning –
the strength of collective backgrounding.
Sun unmasks all
by and by
until night yields
once again
the comforts of undefinability,
but these seamless greens
lift me
above tree line
and  sorrow
carry me like pirith
heard from a distance
the memory of fresh-cut grass
from a different century
shared by strangers
never meant to meet.



  1. This is truly a beautiful poem … some of the words that you have used here have added a beautiful green look to the poem …. It comforts the eyes of the readers who read it anytime of a day I believe…..and this gives us a beautiful feeling of a dew drop that shines on a leaf in a beautiful misty morning …….

  2. Mornings are mergings, yes,
    and there will be one each day
    until the end of time.
    Merging of hearts
    never meant to drift.