There are bridges
Crossed by kings,
And queens.
Men, women,
who couldn’t become
other than who they were.
Their simple nature
Made a legend of
their anonymous tracks.

They signposted
Many paths…
The scares on their hands
Showed how many times
They have missed to nail
The right place
“what it is.”

They climbed,
The mountain of uncertain hours
When one doesn’t know
Which world is real
And where it begins…

Beyond the bridges
There is a land
Between heaven and earth,
Gardens are full of blossoms
Laugh is the norm.
All waters on earth
Patiently flow from
their streams.
Who’s this land belong to?

They are gone now,
We hear their voices
Like breeze
Touching naked leaves.

They are holding the sky
While children
playing with their kites.

They left their pleasure
Of knowing the end
At the beginning of
Dark tunnel
Of each path.

These kings and queens
Stood quietly in the rain
So bold, so free
Like wildflowers
Gave all their beauty
To present,
And
Gone.

We are left with the harvest
Don’t you hear their laugh?
The bridges are rising
To meet our feet,
To take us
To where it all begins…

Hurry…
Let eat the fruits,
Let play with our kites.

© Serena Devi, December 2010

Advertisements