Painting by Peder Mork Monsted

Abandoned Woods

I trod on the withered quilt of bygone moments
The memories hung up there on the trees
basking in the reminiscent sun
waiting for the nostalgia to caress my senses

Besides the river of sub-consciousness
the empty flute of my heart
craved for the marshy ground
where its infant reed had grown

In the depths of the forlorn night
beneath the weeping willow
the barren womb of the mossy lake
yearned for the reflection of the moon

A twig of time detached and fell into the past
breaking the drowsy layers of my reverie
I awoke in the lands of deforestation
my childhood slept with the abandoned woods

 

Gems 

Oh! Precious Gems
Veiled with the silky curtains of dreams
Possessing the monsoons of distant land
Thou preserve my memories since eons
Thy mirror reflects the entire cosmos
Ah, the shooting stars and the glorious galaxies
The colossal Milky Way where my sun belongs
Thy shimmer carries a thousand moons
Within thy horizon my waves are born
Thy enthralling stare rekindles the doused hearts
Within thy brooks my ink flows
Upon thy lush dales my poetry soars

 

 

Painting by Howard David Johnson

 

Prophecy

 

Omen tosses the silver coin

Etched with good and evil

Destiny resonates in its fall
 

Drifting in the numbness

Death knocks on the closed door

Life lulls in reverberation
 

Blood carries the atoms of war

The grave gets smeared with scarlet

Perished warrior rises from the dust 
 

Chariots collided with the galaxies

Stars pierced through the skies

The air reeks of stardust 
 

Withered night holds a secret

Winds flip the pages of time

An ancient tale gets liberated 
 

Within the pitch-black catacombs

Sacred fire chars the ashen manuscripts

Forging a perennial prophecy

 

Painting by Dawn Kureshy

 

Dawn

 

Beyond the valleys of dusk

Inside the sanctum of longing
Within the dark dungeons of silhouette

Above the drowsy layers of night

An enigmatic energy floats gently

Sowing the seeds of existence

In the barren fields of desolation

Reincarnating the withered dreams

Allowing them to bloom again into dawn

Photo Courtesy: Shades of Solitude

https://www.facebook.com/ShadesOfSolitude

Window

 

Adorned with the scars of past

A window still breathes untold stories

Festooned with weeds and creepers

Smeared with virescent moss

Scented with vigorous seasons

Beholding umpteen tempests

Carrying whiffs of perished butterflies

Sustaining cracks in the soul

Splashed with diverse stains

Each stain, a breath exhaled

Hushing the whispers of bygone zephyrs

Coated with mud, dark and greasy

Awaiting an unforeseen season

Aimless, pointless, unfocused

Yet savoring the moments in all its shades