Although the future may hold
Some challenging times ahead,
Life does entail multiple complexities,
Rife with vulnerability,
Heartaches and pains
Caught in a cataclysm of time.
However, it is a natural progression,
Sometimes green, sometimes yellow
And at other times mauve.
When the mind brims with memories pink,
And the crescent moon, all gold
Bathes the corn fields with her golden beams,
The trees stand still,
So does the vast wilderness
Of the unknown.
I listen to the tinkle of bells
And think about the waves dashing
Against the craggy rocks.
I think of the gauges and streams
Gone dry, like the drought-stricken lands
With tears of terror in their eyes
Waiting for the raindrops topour
From the dark heavy clouds.
Blood red fear engulfs me
When I think of the cacophonies of the world,
The gunshots, the missiles, the bomb blasts,
The deep pathos of the old, the women and children,
Who are not sure that a day called tomorrow
Sheathed in colors of the rainbow
Will dawn over their homes.
I do my collage and bricollage
With an enigmatic smile,
Polishing my art to a shine.
I think about the colors life has to offer
And I focus on grey
For grey is the color of the ashes
That I will be leaving behind
To shine with the hues of silver
When I will have taken wings
To soar towards the stars
Where a spade is called a spade
And the power of thoughts reigns supreme.