Unheard, unsung
and yet not unmade,
there’s a timeless music score
of wingtip, flight-path and synchronicity
played to the accompaniment
of orchestral skies
the singular note of an oboe
rising above depravities
the cardinal errors of acquired incapacity
and sorrows embedded
in earthy things.
[Inspired by the photography of Sajani Amarathunga]
Thank You !!
ReplyDeleteerrr.... photography? Ok !
ReplyDeleteOde to doubt
ReplyDeleteThere are doubt monsoons
that fill heart-sky with fear-cloud;
and memory is not sun enough
and love, at times,
a poor wind:
the rain must fall
and fall and end.
It may destroy the floodgates
or yield harvest.
Either way,
the heart must wait.
For sun.
And rain.
- ms
Pensive thought
ReplyDelete