An evocative poem about nature and philosophical realities of life by Ashoka.
Cradled in the ebony curls of the monsoon sky
it returned today
brazen, lovely and laughing!
Over the loneliness of the sea
and its waves softly crying to themselves
there hangs a tomorrow
suspended like the wish
between a waiting and a memory!
Rummaging through the marble stars
that seemed so dead
night’s fingers got singed
It is a realisation
of the ruthless inevitability of death
when one is already born.
©Ashok Jahnavi Prasad
Pic from Net.