of a many jeweled island crown
what histories have passed by
what hopes and violence
what left-alones and let-not-be
in years gone by
and centuries too,
but sentinel landmass
marker of verities and falsehood
tell us of the fragrant,
of color and wind-sweep
clouds that passed
and those that broke,
of children being children
and childhood slipping
slower still into youth and
adulthood,
of boatscape and palm-line
barbed versions and barbed
realities,
time passed, you might say
yes
so fast that nothing has changed.
[Inspired by the poetry of Sharni Jayawardena]
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