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Why we become so busy looking at the things of distance that we forget the miracles nearby————the beauty, the deafening symphonies…. ———untied,we let ourselves sink so hard, as if to experiencethe light of the city, the light of the life, that we forget the peace harboured within, without any intrusion of sneaking sleuth, we bury the “Us” and become the us and we always look for the real in the…
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ECHO
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ECHO
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Forged Arrows of Time
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'16
’16
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Days passed by.
Days passed by, The flowers began to wilt On an old window sill Where she used to sit and stare. And no one heard from her. In a way it was almost too much to bare The memories were like a kite, Never to sure how long they would last Hanging out in the open atmosphere; She died on an early morning, Watching the April air Wash up against the flowers, As her soul rode out on her last breath Working it’s way one last time, Chasing the curvature of her rib cage, Letting it settle in the depth Of her lungs, Tracing it’s way up her throat And resting itself on her lips, Waiting for the right of passage, That should come to the departed
She had waited so long for this, This moment of forgiveness Washing it’s way through her body Saying it’s final goodbye But there was not a thing to be felt Except the subtle slur of heartbeat Rhythmically handy capped in the last moment And she tried to breathe in her soul, But it gave a lingering pause Before it delicately joined the air, And danced it’s way to the window sill, Where the flowers began to bloom Once again, in the early morning April air, Days passed by And no had heard from her since.
