The Cuckoo bird recited a symphony
Whilst caravans continuously whistled
‘Twas a new genre called harmonic cacophony
Then I received His verbal epistle
My flesh and bones stood still
Bulks o’er my lashes flexed
Straight from a window sill
I’d landed to an annex
There, He’s conducting an orchestra
And awaiting an audience
I lay shackled by His aura
As an archangel latched the fence
A lonely lass lead the choir
Though without her knowledge, hummed
To herself and reached the foyer
Where He swallowed, what she succumbed
Lord unnoticed her misdeeds
Loosened tangles and softened blades
Bestowed blankets of divine seeds
And bridged her from all masquerades
Her melancholic melodies were lyrics
That belonged to our Keeper
Carved out from an onyx
Alas! I’d decoded the solitary reaper.
~Poem 2
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| Yon solitary lass (Picture credits: Unknown; Source: Google images) |
