The Process of Camouflage Intersection of Orange
Blazing light streams through the net of my window pane,
Knocking the nerves of my mind
With the beauty of the morning’s embrace.
It interrupts my sound sleep,
But you know what?
I’m in love with it.
What should I call that phase of the bright moon?
It amazes me!
The baffling air, like everlasting music,
Synchronizes with the green leaves,
As fluorescent birds in flight
Glide past with a traditional symphony.
Wide-fenced fields crown the paddy,
Pools of water bind the root hairs,
Swaying their versatile waists
As they entangle with a comrade.
Breathe in, breathe out,
Breathe in, breathe out.
Smell the ecstasy of dark clay,
Spread round about the holy place.
Petite earthworms peek exotically,
Their greasy, lustrous shapes
Petrify me.
The fine leakage of bubbling clouds
Brings a drizzling flow,
Falling straight down
To drench the blanket of the green globe.
Heat diluted, cold air overloaded—
Darkness layers the black light once again.
Misty fog fades foresight,
Spraying its essence
Across the path to paradise.
A thin veil of flowing clouds
Covers the glowing moon,
Dimming its lighthouse beams.
In the black silhouettes of trees,
Beneath the pure, peaceful sky,
The dim light illuminates my eyes,
Craving for long-awaited solace,
Washing my soul with the breeze of a song.
Pristine petals of flowers
Call out—“Come closer to me,
Receive the nectar you seek.”
Buzzing bees and dancing butterflies
Compete in an unending duel:
“Who gets it first—
You or me?”
Today, I watched my dreams’ utopia.
I swear, it was spectacular.
Long, straight trees and sudden rainfalls,
Driving in rhythm—I was completely drenched.
Amidst it all, the sun shone bright,
Constructing consecutive rainbows.
I was astounded by the sight,
Beholding it as Wordsworth did
With the ‘solitary reaper.’
For one moment, I had an idea—
To hold it, touch it, feel it
Upon my soul.
But suddenly, that piercing horn
Broke my unfinished goal,
And a smile adorned my pose.
