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Tuesday, December 29, 2009

For the Zenith of the Sky

 

I wish I could play the mellifluous song

that blesses with

a silent harmony of voices.
I wish I could weave that web of words
which when opened leaves not
a single thread for the eye that sees.


Alas! I flock far away

In a fury of jumbled nothings.
The song floats in the air,
with the wing of words to soar high.

My hands spread

hope for the zenith of the sky

and my soul in shackles,

tiptoes the earth to fall off

from the heaven of life.