The greens, the blues and then the whites,
Are all there is through days and nights.
Once you look above and once below,
The white moves over the blue so slow.
You welcome the lush green lifesaver,
Where the mighty once slept forever.
Halfway through, the vista takes a turn,
Browns and blacks emerge as a slow burn.
You wonder and ponder over what unfolds,
Confusing you with the news and the olds.
Your mind tries to tell you a suspense story,
While your heart dreams of a fantasy glory.
Chaos follows order as if a grand illusion,
Flooding your thirsty kaleidoscopic vision.
Have you come to a conclusion as to why?
Or are you still in a dilemma just like the sky?
Careless whisper of the drizzling drops,
Enormous greens bustling with crops,
Wild stares of the winged with a twist,
Magic in the ways and rules of the mist,
Out there, all belong to the creator.
Old leaves in the wind of old cheers,
The chaotic order of smiles and tears,
Shadows of feelings and their carriers,
Even the shapes of the broken barriers.
Out there, all belong to the dreamer.
Image by A Hopeless Anachronism
I have watched you sleep
With your eyes wide open,
As I could see in them deep
A dream long forgotten.
I have seen you cry hard
From the corner of your lips,
When the waves took apart
The secret of unsailed ships.
I have heard your gasps
Which came along each nod,
Unable to dodge the rasps
They bore with the obvious flawed.
I have felt your cold hands
Under the summer leaves,
They spoke of distant lands
Where not a single soul grieves.
I have tried peeping into you
To find the mystery in your shrine,
But it was not to be, I knew,
The day you looked in mine.
Image by Stefan Keller