Selection 12 of
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BR Hills: An Opus
by Sunita Fernandes
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The silver-blue sky spreads over Indigo hills that reach into high misty oblivion. In the stark stillness of the night, leaves Drip rainwater into the already soggy forest Floor. The low hum of the bumblebee Rises and falls; its wings slapping against the tent. Black trees loom like corrugated Monsters of the darkness, Leaves entwined in a delicate, filigreed Cluster against the plate-like Bone china moon. Frogs and toads, crickets and cicadas, Create Surround Sound nighttime symphony. A queue of flickering fireflies Play now-you-see-me-now-you-don't As they move through the earth-scented air; they are the Forest's winged torchlights. Nature's very own sound and light show. For free. A whirlpool of thoughts spiral through my Mind; thoughts that expand exponentially Into memories that soak my being. Journeys Of past Lives; millennia of existence. The spirit yearns to offer flowers at the altar. I have to yet reach my Temple. |
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