Those common infirmities
read in infinite ways
of ripples, form and
color-splash
bend with sensitivities
birthed in forgotten ages
of root, wingtip and claw –
they arrive
in cosmic predictability
that eludes
and yet prompts standstill
and soft acknowledgment
of infirmities;
and lost and found
in this profound blend
we yield
to silence and embrace
and arms unnamed.
[Inspired by the photography of Chandana Wijesinghe]