Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Friday, March 28, 2014

Journey

Still round the corner,
There may wait,
A new road
Or
A
Secret gate;
From where
The
Wandering feet
Might
Stumble
On path
To
The
Moons and stars,
Over
Rocks,
Grass and stone,
Under the trees,
And
Green splendors;
Where
The blue
Or perhaps
Even
Purple
Horizons
Beacon
Their soul
To
Ramble
Rove,
And
Unravel
What
Lies
Hidden
In the
Seven realms
Of
The
Rainbow;
Eager feet
Scour
The
Road ahead,
To
Untangle
The variegation
Of
Passion, prosperity,
And
Purpose;
And
When the
Journey
Is done,
The weary feet
Shall
Turn
Homewards
For
Evening-rest
For
There
The candle still burns.

2 comments:

  1. Ah, lovely sentiments, Ruby. No matter how far or near we go, at the end of the day, there is no place like home. :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much for your kind words. And yes there's absolutely no place like home

      Delete

Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.