Friday, June 22, 2012

A new day

A sea breeze tickles;
Under the bright street lights,
A dog, stretches and scraps.

Memories of drizzles,
Of thunders, of storms,
Some of nature, some within. 

The bright yellow of a laburnum,
The promiscuous flames of the forest,
And those faded plastic roses-

That tell tales of summers gone by,
Of winters that never were,
But for that muffler, lying forgotten,

In a moth ball filled corner,
Between old pillows and sheets,
From times without a colour TV.

School day mornings,
Of emulsifying prayers, 
Told rote by a hapless generation,

Caught in times, forbidden,
Hoping to rub away the marks
Of religion, belief- reluctance,

To accept anything taught
By people who exchanged roses,
And could not freight

Romance of a distant culture,
Which in crude, hoped to sell
Skin and mindless banter.

A silent light switches on-
Early morning prayers at midnight;
Gods saunter and relive,

Days of mortality,
Of sojourns and nostalgia,   
Like those refuse to believe, in

A higher being, sins, curses,
Cruel tricks, litany, devils,
Coincidence and submission.
They are but a poster on the wall,
A mark of yearning,
Among the miserly triads of a trying faith.

As the lights go off,
A lighting strikes, far away,
Stealing a life,

In the blink of an eye.
Those days are gone,
New ones, now await.

The Light Shines The Brightest

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