Wednesday 19 October 2011

Khalil Gibran


With the untouched elegance of peacock’s quill….
he delicately picks his twinkling thoughts …
and spread them on the purity of white sheet …
with the clarity of an invisible ink …
that carries the subtle touch of somber hues…
perfectly blended with the joy and melancholy…
like expert brush strokes….

so that all the vivacious truths of life...
take off their worn masks ….
begin facing the sun, naked…
and basking in the dazzling glory of the sunshine…
besides the rhythmic sounds of the seashore….
where children play merrily...
building castles from the grains of sand …
where lovers sing the enchanting melodies....
of grace and beauty…

when the wind blows…
and whistle sweet tunes of contentment…
they start floating with the smoothness of mystic clouds….
like the dancing music notes…..

when the rain pours…
they pour down like raindrops....
on the yearning leaves …
and the petals of flowers of love harmony and friendship…
and get absorbed by the bosom of mother earth…
like the eternal trust of humanity …
yielding the fragrance of divinity…
and serenity... 





SW


Dedicated to Khalil Gibran

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