…that piece of the sky enveloped
in the rainbow color conch has
a breath that pampers wounds
of love’s arrows with the golden nib
dipped in an elixir that leaked from
the limbs of the remembrance
which did not give any pause for
long plus hours, those long nights
of suffer annoying as pain
of kidney stones – pity to not
journal all those evaporated souls
as light as Zephyr, not trammel
pine resin fragrance spreading
all over
This hiatus lasts in a blink of an eye
a creative moment when all fears,
wishes, aims, and whims disappear
tuned with the Earth’s motion, I stand
at ease lulled by infrasonic sounds
of crystals deep down beneath my weight
…and I hear that fall of the teardrop
that turns into nacre to be blown
by the feather-like light summer winds
I took the pen that follows the flow
of my vision, blasting scenes that
changes like slides of the now, to sketch
an image like an extract of a Mirage
that lacks icons and symbols
