Wise Delight

by Venkat


Every pain, an imagination
As unreal, as stones fell depressed
Sinking into thin waters
As unreal, as stones raced happy
Rolling upon wet slopes

Every pain, a prison
In bars of disbelief
As these legs become stones
As they then turn wings
As these hands wrinkle into leaves
As they then turn flowers

Every pain, a glue
Holding edges, of our Sun
Fuelling its burns in Orange
Unable to unglue from darkness
It refused to keep

And life, an earth
Watched in wise delight
spinning, into its days and nights

image: spinoffery.wordpress.com


If you enjoyed the poem. please leave a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: