The night was long;
Seemed endless for the bird.
As it was locked;
In a small cage.
Not to let open; again.
The bird had flown away once
Over the mountain, the valleys
The terrains unexplored…
Crossed the oceans
And flown; relentlessly
Fearlessly; in perfect abandon.
The Timeless at once
Became bound
By time, space the milieu…
The bird had tasted the dew
Fresh and cold…
In a garden so pristine
With colors, scent and mist…
The Timeless journey
Seemed just right
When the journey was tight
Daring with might
The return was slow
And less of a glow
As it only gave
The need to let go.
The journey was long
Though it seemed short
The garden is still pristine
Though through the storm
The flowers turn shy
And their colour turns red
When the Bee keeps humming
The gentle song of life.
What inspiring & gentle writing, Anila!!
ReplyDeleteThe bird must fly ... or the song of life wont be worthwhile.
The courageous sounds of flapping wings create a silent sonic boom that shifts the course of destiny -- unaware, perhaps ... but sure to come.
So fly high and don't ever stop tasting the dew or shy away from taking in the scents of the pristine gardens. It does the sense wonders ... and yes, I imagine it keeps the Bee humming : )
Thank you so much, glimplse, a thought... You had been truly encouraging !
ReplyDeleteI see the spirit in your last para ... yes, should taste the dew and not shy away...
It was just an imagery - of a wandering mind; and a wanton thought.
Thank you!