Silenced by
that morning's pink sun,
her mother was
sitting calm,
when I visited them
last evening.
I saw the girl
looking at the sky
and counting.
'Are you counting
how many stars are there?',
I asked her.
'No',
she smiled.
'Then?'
'I am counting
how many are yet to come?'
,..
that morning's pink sun,
her mother was
sitting calm,
when I visited them
last evening.
I saw the girl
looking at the sky
and counting.
'Are you counting
how many stars are there?',
I asked her.
'No',
she smiled.
'Then?'
'I am counting
how many are yet to come?'
,..
2 comments:
Even the vast sky seems lonely,
In her many light years of vigil, she has met zillions of celestial bodies, gave a billion star a place to call home, yet her emptiness never ends. Does she hope any more? Perhaps she still does. There is a vacuum to be filled but the black holes seems to grow with age. But she has learnt to be still, learnt not to give up, learnt to have faith in fate and learnt to belief in purpose of life. Even the vast sky is lonely because perhaps even she has a life. --- your poem inspired this writing.... keep walking!!!
Beautiful...
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