Some soaked in light,
Some drenched in this gleaming twilight,
Others the colour of wavering winds,
Thunderstorms, sparkling vivid.
Of colours that unite and tie, the threads of this universe infinite,
That one creation that dwells within,
Every nameless light.
First is the colour of the speck of dust,
Brown with mud and dark with thud,
Gruesomely grey and transparency relights,
As it tells us about human forms and life.
Nothing is black.. nothing is white,
All of it are peculiar shades of white.
Next are the bellowing windish colours,
Announcing the glee that eternally bedazzles.
It carries the charismatic sensations of happiness,
Remember how it carries your longevous tresses.
As you inhale its serenity and exhale your worries,
It carreses the crests of your befalling life.
Some the colours of garden flowers,
Red..blue..green...carmine and whatever.
Its inticing fragrance that grips your soul,
Medowing past those distant walls,
Of those of worry, of harrowing past,
It tells you whats best and lasts.
Its never the tomorrow... its never the past,
Its this breathe.. this time that always lasts.
Some the shades of audacious memories,
That carry you till infinity, probably.
It tells you that this life is a gift,
And problems, just its meager aspect.
Its uncertain, its confusing, its a hurdle that's never ending,
But this is what makes it incredibly challenging.
We tend to let go of our past,
Without which we are actually nothing...
We are the speck of dust, the flowers....and every colour that could be fathomed about,
For its never a shade or a single strand,
Its a mixture of all of them together,
And deciding whats up for us,
Forever...
Another poem....
