this is a banyan tree devouring time tightening its tentacles on creatures and creations drilling deep into the heart of earth sucking out the wine of life life that knew children’s laughter life that you and I wonder about this banyan tree does not
I was there just last week. Walking up The Dayara Bugyal trail, through rhododendron forests, a gentle climb to high altitude meadows nestled in the heart of the Himalayas.
Bare walnut trees, waking up, were sprouting baby green leaves. Wheat fields swayed to the rhythm of sunlight. Birds stopped to suck nectar from red rhododendrons. Dotting the landscape were these artistically gnarled leafless trees covered in pink sprays of inflorescence. Cherry? I asked in my botanic ignorance. Haha No they said. We’re not in Japan. This is Tilini.
you were there when I first felt my heart murmuring new words confusing, consuming time and space and everything in between swiftly changing what it means to be alive I would not have ever known… but because you were there I felt my heart
The Verse Epistle is simple to define – it is no more than a letter in verse form but its flexibility makes it difficult to encapsulate. Yet, it is that very flexibility that made it the most ideal form of the era.
Plainly speaking, the “Verse Epistle,” is a letter written in verse, usually taking as its subject either a philosophical or a romantic question.
dVerse Poetics – hosted by msjadeli. Ms Jade asked us to consider Millikin’s question , What is the word, the line, that cuts, that can show that edge? And write a poem on the edge and from the fringes.
The little fountain pond flashes fish. We’ve brought one pora. I crumb the dry biscuit and the fish jump at it. The evening sun glints on the water. I fill my fist in my father’s right palm and look up at him. Clock? Clock. The second hand marches to a parade. Tick. Click. Pause. Tick. My father carries me high enough to see the big white face with its three needles. When the thin one reaches 12, it chimes. One loud delightful Tanngg! Its 4:30.
We walk to the first tower of the plant. There’s a mountain of sulphur nuggets. I get to pick one and slip it into my father’s pocket. We make our way through the fertilizer factory. My father is on his evening rounds. A rusty gate lets us cross over to the beach. With much fanfare my father retrieves the sulphur nugget, strikes a match and we watch a green flame dance. My toes dig into the moist sand. I point at a distant wave touching the shore and ask my father….There! Did you see that jelly fish? And we laugh. It was our thing.
watching waves whisper silly sweet nothings before sands run out of time
Why don’t you give it a go where time goes, you never know Go big or go home they say Do it! Or your regrets will never go away Go on, don’t you hesitate You are a champion….On your marks! Get Set! Go!
melded souls melting time with clumsy careless words making love pay for reason shutting windows lest yearning oozes into wanton hope imbuing reality with child-like promises wanting to wander interlacing fingers so we forget this grief in all its glory in our last embrace