Saturday, July 10, 2010

Changing light

This light is not of the morning.

Warm, dull hues fall on this majestic tree. The bright leaves turn to olive. The grand trunk bathes, in what seems to be, the last trickles of light for the day. Waltzing dark shadows of little leaves caressing it to slumber.

There is the distant chirp of a lone bird.

But the day has just begun.

The lone chirp turns into a cacophony of chirping.

The shadows of little leaves disappear into oblivion. The grand trunk is washed with streaming light from the parting clouds. The olive leaves turn a grass green. Flares of white and yellow light dwarf this once majestic tree.

This light is of the morning now.


4 comments:

Shreetama said...

Never thought a web search on English,August would bring me here!
I am so glad that it did.

Don't know how to praise your writing. I am so lost for words.

Your fan.

gulnaz said...

i keep checking hoping to read fresh posts... why have you stopped???c

Adrian Neibauer said...

I, too, miss your poetry. It is difficult to begin again, but worth it once you start.

Anjali / Pincushion said...

Don't know if you remember me - used to be called 'Pincushion' of The Glass Wall - we used to be regulars at each others blogs :)

Then I stopped - and now I am back - but looks like now you've stopped :(
Do drop by at my new blog - LIFESCAPES, if you can!

Have a good life!