Into the yellow of light we enter at the sunset
And open page after page of the written word.
The sun shines brightly outside a green carpet
Against the phonetic drone of a man's words.
Wisdom binds parallel two-dimensional planes
Together here ,joining them in a common light.
Yesterday we had a bundle of lines cleaning up
A room of straight lines, its light catching them
And scooping them up behind a door's triangle
After kicking up a storm in cross luminous lines
And flying light dust particles as in a dust storm.
Light was dust flying in our face, towards roof.
Light is no longer lines nor is broom a bundle
Resting in a triangular door corner , chafing light.
There are light points from room's broken lines.
The points now lie in parallel planes of existence
Held together and a common light thread runs
In them across vast recesses of a human mind.
Posted at 04:17 pm by adukuri