Ugly Lines
A placid stream
picturesque, pretty, pure.
Suddenly, there are lines
dark, deep and shattering.
Ugly creases
on a calm face.
Turbulence.
Life would
never be
the same again.
Paper boats, they two.
Two paper boats
– brown and cream
wobbling gently
down the stream.
They always
touched – albeit
too gently.
Came along
the little boy
the master who
made them all –
showed a handsome
big, bright
red paper boat.
The cream one
moved on.
Chemistry.
The brown paper boat
stands alone.
Pause button
A press
that chokes;
The needle
sinks – its
venomous tip
piercing
a point in
running time.
The truth
that came in
as the pause button.
Fabric
No, I haven’t
stopped;
I do
weave across
but..
the colours
criss-cross;
the pattern
clearly mocks;
and there are
tricky knots.
Ugly, this
fabric of Life –
that I,
the solitary man,
weave alone.
A Glowing Candle
I know you now.
Not the way
I knew.
You wouldn’t
come back.
No, don’t.
I am working
on the knots.
in the light of
the glowing candle
by my side.
It’s called hope.
And this,
is what I call –
Revival.
Picture by Ali Nishan under CC license