A pleasurable moment.
As the winds swayed the trees
longer and longer, as the roots
strained,the clouds circled
and smeared into a blinding
rage of continuous cold rain.
From all directions
they culred and merged,
uniting and parting,
with feathery fierce
and lovable verse-
unification and ramification
of one in meloncany depression.
Water hallows life
and the raw substance
of purity, pertains
the presence within
to wonder fill the
mind-in awe,
in the superiority
of an ancient cycle,
one still so tenacious
and routine adhering,
as if it was its prayer
to expose the mindlessness
of humans and their
predicament and folly
in their creation.
At the top of the world,
at the vertex of a triangle
at the peak of a mountain,
within lies a joy
of profound silence,
lest the evil smile
of destruction ever bear
resilience.Neither place
not time matter,
as the rain incessant
ponders the earth
forever gullible ,
not solidified,even
by human imagination.
And on that ledge
open and exposed,
if one were to stand,
the belonging,
the attachment,
between earth and humans
can be felt,
where man can let the minds
flow through and listen
to the tunes of natures
way of beginning a new
chain of causing culvert
conjugation-the
beating down of the vary
and fueling the life of
the within mighty.
Yet all we see is
a blanket of destruction,
which moves in from
the high seas
and rides on winds,
bound in one horizontal
direction.The clouds
seem to be forces of mayhem,
the death God's coveted
tool of justice.But
the only justice we forget
is poetic and that shall
preserve the truth
as much as the clouds their
swaying fruit-
as the drizzle breezes
on to the face and we
rush for cover
from the torrent that
shall follow.
For such is the nature-
for the sun might be hid
and earth might face a gloomy fit,
yet the gray darkness
is a reminder that none
is superior than the whole,
that the instrument's
sound can be played,
only if the artist is so made
and the climate ready to hear
the beauty of the untold,
yet known,repeated in
just another way.
from a guarded place,
in between a populous race,
the rain still never fails to amaze.
Even as i face none of the worse
implications of the storm
which by some grace got made,
I can never but be at ease
that such forces exist,
which makes it worth being it.
Never can a joy be higher
than when in oneness with
something greater,yet such claims
are just sinister-for nothing
can be felt which isn't.
The light shines the brightest
