'this beautiful moist wet silent afternoon...
and...
this trance...
still...
you flew...
still you felt
works in your limbs...
still you felt
math...
trigonometry...
mrnsuration...
algebra...
this peace...
this satiated soul ful mind...
this leafy feel...
this softened wood of the oak...
this cuckoo songs dripping like honey all over...
still you thought
of hardest sum...
a polygon...
a hexagonal dimension...
an improbable numberscape...
how come?'
he wrote
on a piece of paper...
and
through the running post
of monsoony wind
sent it...
praying...
evoking...
invoking...
love
No comments:
Post a Comment