18 june 2021

 

Sushama Karnik

  · 

Shared with Your friends and Sushama's friends

Certain mornings open

thousands of windows

into my walled up sky.

Every window

a patch of color on my palettes,

and I find a canvas each

for each of the colours.

A swirling tide of blue for the sea,

and smelting gold for the sun,

A gentle white for the flightpath

of birds winging the sky,

a subtle path,

a dust fog, leading to dark woods,

the zone of the sounds of rain.

The morning slides lazily.

All through the day my palettes change,

and I change

into landscapes seen in dreams.

Sushama Karnik

18th June 2021.

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