It feels like God who watches from the clouds,
To look at distant mountains
and tall towers,
The blue and violet of the
spectrum scattered;
Which stand so blue in the
summer drizzle.
We have fitted together two
broken halves,
Watching the sunrises and
sunsets together,
With limbs, run and coil
against each other
Strengths and foibles of two
separate lives.
We have picked up a few
purple clovers,
To divine what the future has
in store for us,
Colours that run amok in
twilight dreams,
Of a full spectrum scattered
in an afterglow.
When a pale sun sets along
its blue horizon,
May it have love that’s like
halves fitted again.
No comments:
Post a Comment